Oui, oui, oui all the way home.

Last week, I brought Ariane some English nursery rhyme books and a couple of cattails to get me back in her good graces. I think she likes me and all, but it's hard to stay popular when each time you show up, mommy and daddy leave. She really enjoyed them, but now I'm suffering with various ones stuck in my head as I try to finish this screenplay and write a reaction to Une Femme est Une Femme.
Her favorite is: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old. Some like it hot, some like it cold, some like it in the pot nine days old.
"Encore, encore," she says, like a little French teletubby. Or an opera audience.
Ludmilla (her mother, my teacher) believes it's because there's one similar to this that she already knows in Hungarian. She also then noted, that there aren't many French nursery rhymes because the language doesn't have that type of musicality to it. Which would explain why good French music, as I've noticed, is somewhat hard to come by.
Really frustrated with the language at this point. I can comprehend quite a bit reading, and I've even started thinking in French sometimes, but when people speak to me, I'm pretty lost. It's quite humbling. I'm really going to push myself this last month and a half to step up to the plate, and get my money's worth out of the program.
I had a long lunch with Tweedle Dee the other day, and he's really disappointed with the program we're in. He's pretty high maintenance and hard to please in any given situation. He asked me for advice, so I tried explaining to him some of the basic Buddhist philosophies that helped me through some rough patches this past year. It was great to try and teach what little I know about enlightenment and happiness, because it helps me remember things, too.
Before I left town, and told people in NYC that I would be staying with a host family, some people's reactions were really funny. "Oh no, what if they're crazy?" I would laugh, and think of how silly it was to worry about that. Situations are what you make them, right?
My house mother has turned out to be quite neurotic. She's been through 4 maids since I moved in, and I had the opportunity to speak with one on her way out. The maid said the lady of the house was absolutely crazy and would never be happy. She said she would deliberately make huge messes (I have noticed erratic messiness) and then would insist that the maid finish an impossible list of chores in less than 3 hours. She won't let me do my own laundry, and she insist on cleaning my shower almost daily (even if I haven't showered). They told me I could use a small refrigerator in the basement, and she rearranges my food in there.
And yet, she is very kind and generous. She leaves me soup, and chocolate bars, and cough syrup. She may be strange and it may be driving me absolutely bonkers, but she's obviously suffering in some way to act the way she does. She's a retired woman with a little too much time on her hands is all. Although, I'd rather live on my own, there's nothing I can do about it. Except have compassion and patience for my wayward hostess.
I also often wonder if I got ripped off with this program. Tweedle Dee was very focused on this subject. Where exactly is all of our money (or credit, in my case) going? Well, I guess we could sit around feeling cheated, but what in the hell is that going to do? It is in the past. Tuition is paid in full. All we can do is squeeze every little great experience there is to be had in the short time we have left. In Paris, I mean. But I guess that's true in the bigger picture as well.
Telling someone else these things did my spirit a lot of good. And I realized that I would like to teach yoga when I get home. It has given me a lot of perspective, and I think it would be a great gift to give to others. Not to mention the fact that teaching something is the best way to learn it.
I've also made some other decisions about my life through this experience. Unfortunately, I've created an equal amount of unanswered questions. If that makes any sense. All I know is that for the next 6 weeks, to each and every opportunity this city has to offer I will say, oui. Oui. Oui.