BUT: I'm now here! I'm writing from the day bed in my room, having a little extra time tonight because I did not end out going for a driving lesson with the father (I'm going to have to find a better way to refer to the family I'm working for - that's way too awkward). The reason I have to re-learn to drive being that the car I'll have the use of is manual transmission and prior to Tuesday, I'd never driven anything but automatics. But tonight it was raining pretty heavily and since my coordination of the clutch v the gas is still tenuous at best, we decided it was best not to risk me driving around in the dark.
Other than driving lessons, I've been settling in. Le père (i.e. the father, which is better ... but perhaps not there yet) has been working since I got here on Mon, but la mère (starts with "m," rhymes with "other") started work yesterday. So I had the three kids (9, 7, and 5) half the day yesterday and all day today because they don't start school till late next week.
In terms of French accomplishments, I have drunk an Orangina (oh, how I love thee!), eaten baguettes or some other bread with butter and jam for breakfast every morning, had cheese after dinner most nights, and, most importantly, spoken and mostly understood lots of French. I have to take French lessons while I'm here, per government mandate for everyone on au pair visas, but those don't start till late September. So for now I'm speaking French with the family and working on learning some of the basic household vocab that I've forgotten.
I have also been learning to cook various french meals - because they believe strongly in a hot meal for lunch as well as dinner, unlike most Americans (i.e., you know, me). Fortunately for me, I have the help of the oldest child in this, since I'm often uncertain about the meanings of food-words and, when those are clear, about how the French usually cooks said foods. And the 9-year old is a competent cook, or at least a competent explainer, so so far I've done pretty well. All 2 days that I've cooked lunch, that is. But hey, we all have to start somewhere.
In other French news, when la mère got back from work in the early afternoon on Wed she gave me the afternoon off and I walked to a nearby shopping center where I purchased a hair-dryer. I brought my own, but after using in on Monday, I decided that it might be prudent to purchase one that I was sure could handle French electric voltage. Mine blew out the same amount of air regardless of setting, was significantly louder than usual, and emitted and unfortunate and pervasive smell of smoke and singed rubber.
So yeah, bought a new one. And while that may sound banal (o ye of little imagination!), it was actually a minor victory: I found the mall, found an electronics store, found the hairdryers, talked to a sales-person, paid for the hairdryer, and picked it up from the back of the store after doing so. All kinds of French happened throughout that, people. And I understood everything and managed not to make a complete fool of myself.
And this sounds trite, but I think the title of this is blog is actually appropriate now. Because I really am - mostly, except for a few things like, you know, this blog - living in a francophone environment. It's actually kind of thrilling, not gonna lie.