So, I thought my French speaking was challenged by the Alliance Francaise meeting a few weeks ago, and as it turns out, the French speaking challenge continues.
Last Tuesday, I walked into work and a fourth grade teacher approached me and said, "I hear you speak French."
I nodded.
"We got a new kid in the fourth grade," she said. "She's from the Ivory Coast."
I felt my heart begin to race. Could it be that, finally, there was someone in my day-to-day life who spoke French?
"And the bad news is, she speaks no English...and neither does her family."
Now, I felt bad for the little girl and even worse for her family who, as it turns out, work as maids in a hotel downtown in the heart of the city, and yet still, I couldn't quite believe the good fortune.
We parted ways that morning, and I urged her to come find me if she needed me. The first day went well. We exchanged pleasantries and talked about small, insignificant things. But then, on the second day of school, I went up to the girl's classroom to help her make her lunch choice, and she wasn't there. The school called up her sister's school. The sister had made it to school and assured us that her sister had been at the busstop when she left. I finally phoned the mother, palms sweaty and hands shaking, partially wondering how clear my French would be and partially worrying about the girl. I told the girl's mother that she hadn't gone to school, and the mother rushed out of work, drove the streets of the city until she found her daughter, wandering around in the snow.
The girl had begun to doubt that she was in the right place, she told us later, and she went home to check where her busstop was. Meanwhile, the bus passed, and the girl coudn't find her house. Her mother was already at work, and not knowing English, she didn't know how to communicate to anyone around her. But thankfully, disaster averted. The principal picked her up at the family's apartment and brought her to school. Thankfully, things have gone more smoothly since. I struggled to explain what a tostada was this morning (do you know what a tortilla is? No. How about a wrap? No. Well, I guess you could say it's like a crunchy pizza...), I translated a letter for the parents when they came in confused over something they'd received in the mail, and I translated a very awkward conversation a few days ago (the principal told her, after 4 days, that she should no longer wear the same clothes, because in America, we just don't do that), but for the most part things have improved. I do realize, however, that I have a long way to go in my French speaking, and hearby, reaffirm my resolution to work harder on my oral and written French skills.
And on a similar but different note, lately, I have felt an intense need to head out of the States.
A Norwegian friend of mine who currently lives in Paris wrote me a while ago and offered me her apartment for the next several months while she does an internship in America. I considered the offer, but at that point, my fiance had not yet left Paris for Pretoria, so I didn't want to be anywhere near him with so much healing left to do. I told her no, but vaguely regretted the decision.
Then, Friday, I began reading a book called Honeymoon with my Brother. It's the story of a man who is dumped by his fiancee (sound familiar?!), but he had already paid for their honeymoon, she along with his brother, he embarks on the planned Costa Rican vacation. The brothers end up having so much fun that they return home, sell their homes and possessions and head overseas for the next two years, and in the process, visit 53 countries.
And in addition to all of this, my cousin left yesterday for Togo, West Africa. She'll be working there for the next three months. She urged me to come visit, but ah life... Jobs, bills, responsibilities... I can't see any way to go.
Still, with all of this travel and talk of travel, I want so badly to head back oversea.
Prague is a must-see. I've heard people rave about how it's the perfect collision of Western and Eastern Europe. I heard amazing things about the spired buildings and interesting post-Communist atmosphere.
I also have wanted to see Capetown since my ex-fiance extolled its virtues when we debated where to honeymoon.
And then, there's the typical Ireland, Scotland, England trip I've meant to take for a while. My former roommate in Paris is living in London now and assured me a place to stay. And though I see 3 days' worth of Ireland, I'd love to see more.
So much to see. So little money.
Still, I've decided to save $200 a month toward an international vacation. After budgeting the cost of a plane ticket and the cost of a 9-day adventure, I think I could feasibly take said trip in the summer of 2013.
I already feel excited at the prospect.
But for now, I have to save and continue to be wiser with money.
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