Jet-Lag Baby

Some of you know of my preparations before I left that I was trying to defeat the dreaded jetlag...getting up progressively earlier, etcetera. Well, it has not worked too well. I actually did sleep on the plane and that gave me some hope that I could start my first few days off well but this did little. I do get sleepy, in fact very sleepy at 10 p.m. but after going to bed I awaken at midnight but my body thinks it is naptime, i.e., 3 pm central. I then lie in bed awake until about 3-4 am and then go to sleep for about 3 hours. I am pretty groggy then as I get up for breakfast. Then, the non-stop French bombardment begins.

My French has turned out worse than thought. I can bleat out a few tortured phrases but when it comes to composing spontaneously a sentence I freeze and hem and haw and search for words. It is a bit comical, actually.

My family situation is excellent. La Famille Puissant has hosted students for 20 years. Madame Puissant, a sturdy and lively 63-year old is an old hand at taking care of students and has literally hosted hundreds over that time. She and her husband, Jean-Claude have a genuine liking for foreign students of all countries and as they are retired this is convenient supplement to their income. I have a great bedroom--a comfy single bed, high ceilings, a desk, table, lamp, and shelves for my few possessions. I am on the second floor, up a narrow winding staircase and conveniently located next to the bathroom (the other two students have smaller rooms on the third floor). The "house" is typically urban French: part of a long block of an unvariegated building. It appears to be 19th century but actually is not that old.

We have breakfast and dinner together, "en famille." Meals are simple and excellent. I'm not just lucky in a good family but the two other students that lodge there as well. They are friendly and companionable, most necessary when so far from home. One (Camillot) is a young Columbian student with excellent French. I am sure having a Spanish background helps a good deal. He does about half the talking of us three at the table. The other (Mary) is a student from Davidson College in N.C. She has not had much French as yet but bravely pipes in on occasion. I am somewhere in between but actually talk more than I would have thought. One certainly cannot be afraid to make mistakes as one of the house rules is always speak French. After dinner, c. 9 pm, we help do the dishes and then repair to the living room to watch a bit of television, en français, certainement. By that point my brain starts turning off (if it was not off before) and instead of really listening to the voices on the screen I begin to look at the background, think of directorial techniques, regard the automobiles as I lose focus. I'm sure it will get better as I gain an "ear."

Of course, all of this discomfort is good for me. Some of you readers have heard me philosophize before of one of the perils of aging. I've certainly noticed a "hardening of the arteries" in terms of activities over the years. It is too easy as one ages to make various diktats of "I won't do this anymore" or "I could never do that." To mix metaphors, it is too easy to paint oneself into a corner that one will never leave. That's not really living as it is just giving up.

More on the school in a later post.