A Rocky Start

So my intentions for coming to Aix-En-Provence was to spend the year having adventures, and then keeping account of it all by writing a blog. Unfortunately, I have gone my first two weeks in France without keeping track of anything, and lord knows that a hell of a lot has happened since I've been here. The stay thus far has been absolutely incredible. But first things first-- let's start at the beginning.

On the plane towards Paris, I was seated next to a french guy around 35 who told me he was a teacher at the University of Oklahoma-Tulsa. I told him about my year long voyage in Aix and he indulge me in speaking a little french and giving me advice on different things to see. The rest of the voyage was going normally-- we ate a little dinner, tried to sleep as best we could, ate breakfast, and watched the little TV screens that show the progress of our airplane to Paris. We were about thirty minutes away from Charles De Gaul when I asked my french friend why he was heading home, since the academic school year in the US had just started and as a professor, he should be teaching. He told me the reason he was flying home was because his younger brother had fallen eight floors off a Parisian balcony, and that he was flying home to attend the funeral. I was in utter shock. I tried to console him, but really, what can you say? He told me about his brother-- that they had just spent the whole summer together, and that he was one of the happiest people he had ever met. He was only 23. He told me he had to stay strong for his parents, who were completely heartbroken. They asked him to be the one to identify the body, because they knew they wouldn't be able to handle it. I couldn't help myself. I started crying on the plane. I guess you never know when something like that can happen. You just assume that people will always be there. It made me feel as though even as much as you might care for somebody, you'll never be able to take them for all they are worth.It's impossible not to take things for granted

So after my plane ride, I had to take a train to Aix. While in the longest line in the nation for my train ticket, the man three spots ahead of me promptly THREW UP ON HIMSELF AND PASSED OUT. I thought to myself "Damn, I've got to get out of this line. People are literally dying here!" 

Finally I got my plane ticket and was off. There was supposed to be someone in Aix waiting for me at the station, but because my train broke down 3 times on the way, I was two hours late and my ride had abandoned me. I found a cab and found my way to my dorm.

The first person I met was my neighbor, Lea. She is french, but her father is Australian. She invited me to hang out with her and these guys from Marseilles who lived down the hall. My first french friends! One of the guys was kind of flirting with me, and before he left he gave me maybe a more than friendly bisous? and ruffled my hair a bit. I was just excited that french people would even CONSIDER flirting with me. So all in all, my first night was a success. Pictures of my dorm room to come! And beautiful stories of my awkwardness.