View from l'Hotel Europe of Place Grennette
With the smell of an eleven-hour flight and another one-hour bus ride on me, I arrived at l’Hotel Europe with my overweight luggage. I was sweaty and my tail-bone was killing me from the old Lufthansa seats (I was unlucky enough to get one of the old airplanes). I had been listening to my French podcast during the last week or two so with all my confidence I went up to the desk at the hotel and asked, “c’est ici pour le Boston University?” The man responded, "oui" and then proceeded to say two or three fast sentences of which I understood nothing. I stared back at him for a second, then out came a giggle and a “quoi?” The confident French-speaking woman was gone and I was just a blushing petite rousse.
For days following, I and the other 5 of the group, strained our ears, our concentration, our heads, our hearts, our bodies, our souls to be able to understand the quick and effortless French of the “Grenoblois.” Jet-lag still haunting us, we were physically drained at the end of each day. My bed seemed to be cozy perfection, but instead, I found out it was a place for my head to rush through all that happened and that will happen. I went over new vocab, new phrases and tried to practice new sentences. Suddenly, the fatigue was gone and the blood rush was rushing, the heart beat faster and concentration lost. The next morning I woke up stiff and tired to gladly start it all over again.
This is the first time in a long time I’ve been excited for classes to begin. Now I understand why toddlers love to learn and to ask questions, they need to communicate and comprehend the world around them. I am a toddler and although I want to rush it, there’s only so much I can accomplish at a time.
Photos and story by Marion Geiger
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