hey! My new family have some family friends who also live in
Rognes only a km down the road. The man of the house, Jean-Mark, is an actor in
a French TV series called plue belle de la vie ( more beautiful of life). I can’t really remember too many
details but I think at the moment his character is in prison?! His wife, Katie,
is a really lovely blonde petite lady who reminds me of Cameron Diaz (we’ve
agreed to go jogging together!). They have two kids around 9 (girl whose name I
forgot) and 11 (Lucio, the boy), and Jean-Mark has an older daughter of 22 called Meilva who lives with her mum. On
the weekend, Clem, Malo, Antoine (one of the twins and Clem’s best friend) and
I went over to spend the evening with Meilva and her friend Camille(who are
studying message therapy at university together and where visiting for the
weekend), because Jean-Mark and Katie were out to dinner. It was a night filled with music, dancing,
pasta (with bolognaise made my Jean- Mark, a full blooded Italian) and lots
more! I initially didn’t even think to take my guitar, but after some lovely
persuasion my Clem and Malo, I drove back with Meilva to our house to get it.
Probably the most hilarious thing of the night was when Clem was dancing with
Malo and she lost balance and half sat/fell on a small decorative trunk/stylish
storage box-thing on which the big old cat was peacefully sleeping.
At about 2 a.m. we made the hysterically terrifying walk
home with only a flashlight to guide our way. Clem was leaving bruises on my
arm, and when Malo flashed the torch into a large garden only to have a ghostly
while woman staring back , I let rip the most high-pitched and piercing scream I
could muster and Clem and Malo followed suit (until we realised it was a
statue).
The next morning (well, almost afternoon by the time I rose
from the dead), I had only 40
minutes to get ready for a neighbours lunch next door... literally next door - About
a 25 metre walk from garden to garden. We were half an hour late and the last
ones to arrive even though we lived the closest (he he he), and when we got
there the door open to about 15 new people to greet. 30 kisses (“bonjour”
*kiss, kiss) and 15 already-forgotten names later, we headed to the lounge room
(or ‘salon’ in French) to feast on Champaign and pre-lunch snacks such as those
weird puffed peanut chips, pate on toast with pickles, carrot sticks, wasabi
peas, pistachio’s and potato chips. While the conversation casually drifted in
one of my ears and out the other, I quietly dozen on Clem’s shoulder. In total
there were three couples at the lunch - Marie and Thibault (my folks), Katie
and Terri and the couple who owned the house, Emmanuel and Emmanuel. Because
Emmanuel and Emmanuel had the same name, their nick names were Mano and Manie
(I think). And then there was the tribe of kids...
Because I can’t really use my ears for information as much
anymore, I have recognised that I watch what people do, and their
characteristics. Terri had an absolutely hilarious some-what and ‘even’ laugh
which allowed him to laugh for extended periods. Two ‘ha ha’ sounds would be
while exhaling and the next two would be inhaling, so it was very rhythmical :
ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha. Somewhere over the top of
boisterous conversation and laughing you’d hear someone yell “OK, a la table!!”
(to the table!). for entree there was about 6 different kinds of salad circulating
the table. There was a bowl of roast capsicum with herbs totally submerged in
olive oil. There was a Greek salad with cucumber, fetta, tomato, olive oil and
balsamic vinegar, another with cabbage, cheese, pecan nuts, little cubes of ham
and a scrumptious dressing, ...etc ...etc. we ate accompanied by a glass of
rose... or two, and then out came the main meal, white rice and a big pot of
some sort of chicken dish. After that, that BIGGEST bowl of fruit salad came
out that I had ever seen. I have not eaten a decent fruit salad since I was in
Aus with my mum (we used to do it for breakfast with yoghurt and muesli on
top). Accompanying the fruit was another tray covered in a variety of biscuits
and golden foil wrapped caramel wafers that I crumbled over both the bowls of
fruit saladJ. After
Marie was done filling everyone’s head with my music shenanigans, I was once
again persuaded to go get my guitar (I’m not going to lie, I loved playing for
people – so I was keen to get it, too). I had left my guitar at Jean-mark and
Katie’s house the previous night because I couldn’t be bothered carrying it
home, so Marie and I zoomed over there, retrieved it and returned to what
became a little family concert! I played two songs, and then the daughter of the
2 Emmanuel’s who was 11, played a couple songs on her flute. Then the 16 year
old brother cranked out his base guitar! It was some good times had.
Unfortunately my morning routine has been considerably
altered. Previously, when I first came to my second family, we would get up at
around 6:30 and then at precisely 7 Thibault would drive us to school. However,
there was a healthy Family discussion the other night (ok, every family fights
– its normal), so what I’m trying to say id that my family had an argument
after dinner on Sunday night. I had no idea what they were talking about and
realised I should probably say good night and leave them to it when I kept
randomly laughing out loud. I headed up stairs, put on some beats and did some
ridiculous yet intense bedroom dancing that if anyone had been watching....
haha I’d love to think of their reaction/expression. About 25 minutes later all the kiddies cam
upstairs, and that’s when I found out that that I would now be getting up at 6,
leaving the house at 6:30 to walk to the bus stop and catch the bus at 7...
FUN! I have decided that it’s beneficial though, because I get to do some
exercise everyday!!! (Cup half full, Danika; cup half full). It’s just so cold:
the other morning my left hand randomly got pins and needles and I figured that
it was so cold that my blood had frozen and I was having some sort of
mini-stroke.
What’s new for Danika? Well, about a month ago I got an
email from a long time acquaintance back in Australia. We went the same primary
school (although I think he was about 4 years above me), but we’d never really hung
out or known each other very well. Anyway! Turns out Miles and his awesome dad,
Brian (who I have regular conversations with in Coles), were going to be
travelling through France for 4 weeks around April, and they were even going to
pass through Aix if I would like to go out to dinner? Hmmm, go out to dinner
with a fellow Australian? Bloody oath I would! So after some pre-hand planning,
Miles and Brian came over to Rognes for a pre-dinner drink with my family at
7:30 on Tuesday night. The minute Miles made eye-contact with my huge black
dog; it was instantly love at first sight. He knew the breed (I forgot it) the
country of origin (Canada) that they are popular dogs for saving little children
in the water (or something?), that they’re quite rare, and very expensive etc.
It took a good ten minutes to separate them so that we could go inside out of
the cold! Over a glass or rose (from our local vineyards) or a red (that Brian
kindly provided!!) we discussed all the ways possible, of being killed by
Australian wildlife. Miles and Brian did a glorious demonstration of their
encounters with sharks, whales, spiders, snakes, koalas (highly dangerous...)
kangaroos, scorpions, and also how long you have to live after you get bitten
etc. Did you know? Of the 10 most
poisonous snakes in the world, Australia has 9 of them? They should be
advocates for tourism Australia! Poor Malo was sitting pale as paper with his
hands over his mouth and eyes wide.
Brian, Miles and I ended up going to a cosy little
restaurant in Rognes called “Ma cuisine”. Poor Brian was having an interesting
experience driving on the wrong side of the road, so we did most of the talking
when we were safely out of the car. Marie and Thibault had also filled us in on
what was a good choice off the menu. We had decided to have the froi gras as an
entree (duck pate that the restaurant had mixed to make a savoury crème
Broulee), and for mains, miles and I shared a cote de boeuf (pretty much just a
huge hunk of good quality beef that has been roasted in the oven but only
enough so that is it still practically raw in the middle) and some fry’s on the
side. We couldn’t finish it... it was huge. And Brian had a Moroccan dish
cooked in a targene (that weird porcelain thing that I can’t spell) with
couscous on the side. We shared a bottle of lovely soft red, and talked about
all the gossip of Alstonville, all their experiences in France, and also how
bloody great Australia is. They dropped me home at about 11:30 and miles kissed
his doggy friend, absolute, goodbye. And then texted me how great the dog
was... Oh, And the family!
Now to talk about school!
As you know I changed class, and this means that I have gone from being
with 15 year olds, to being with 16/17 year old which is a lot better for me. Also I am in a premiere L and the L stands for
literature. I do French, French literature, English, English literature,
Italian, art and also once a week I have one lesson of science (it alternates
from biology to chemistry each week).
I am really loving
all my teachers, but truthfully I don’t know any of their names:
-
The English
teacher is a jolly, over-weight, hilariously comedic man of maybe 30 years. I enjoy
his teaching abilities because he is so laid back, and I don’t feel that extreme
gap between teacher and student.
-
Then there’s the French teacher (who also teaches
us French literature) and he is an interesting character, bus also really
enthusiastic and funny. He’s fit, maybe 60, bald, and very nice because on Thursday
we have four hours of French in the morning and he lets us have breaks to go
use the coffee machine and he’s just really kind. We also watch lots of
old-school movies in his class.
-
The englsih literature teacher is brittish so
she is really easy to get along with too. I think her classes are pretty
challenging fir people who don’t have language as a first language, so if no
one knows the answer and she is desperatwly saying “can ANYONE see examples of
wit or cynicism in this excerpt of the play
‘The importance of being Earnest’ by Oscar Wilde (talk about challenging), I’d
eventually put up my had and answer
which is followed by a “thankkyyooouuuuu” (as she releases all her tension in
one word). She’s got a lovely sweet and light personality and the other day
after listening to her speak French with a powerful British accent, I asked my
friend Gabby if my Australian accent is as prominent when I speak French. yes,
yes it was. Even I know o sound retarded, so I find is kind of funny when my
lovely family comments on my accent over skype and how French I sound while in
reality I sound completely ridiculous.
-
The Italian teacher doesn’t really acknowledge
my existence.
-
Initially I thought the geography/history
teacher was a scary demon, because she yells just in general when she is
teaching and also everyone pre-warned me so I went into the class with some
hefty expectation. But after a lesson the other day we got talking and she’s
really nice!
-
Haven’t really gotten to know the art teacher
very well. So I’ll have to update you laterz.
Anyway, i hope that fills you in a bit. lots of love, dan x
