Not-complaining

They** say that when you go abroad, it's important to maintain:
1. perspective
2. a sense of humor

So here's to you, Columbia website: from the perspective of my grumbling stomach, I have not eaten since lunch and I feel like a punished child sent to bed without dinner. My sense is that it's humorous that my host sleeps in the kitchen/living room and therefore denies me a way to change the perspective of my estomac. Please don't tell my mother that I ate cereal bars for dinner, and to my mother, I'm on it... it's just that after studying the French list of kosher foods for about an hour and then realizing that anything crumb-producing or sugar-containing will be frowned upon, I came home almost empty-handed, -stomached, and too cold to care. I'm hungry for another cereal bar, but I wouldn't want to shock my system with this alien food - I'm pretty sure getting sick is out of the question in this très belle maison.

Meanwhile, I offer a toast to the French (though the French toast they offer me is in fact hard and not dipped in egg nor cinnamon). I hail them for severely limiting electricity and water consumption. From my experience, many American homes and institutions (myself very much included) display minimal awareness of that which lies beneath the surface of lights, heaters, and water faucets. We turn knobs and flicks switches without fully appreciating our effects on the environment. Here, the forces that be force the French to heed mère Nature because heating and electricity is very expensive and hot water is limited.

THAT SAID, I never fully lost my fear of the dark and I have split second nightmares every time I walk from the wash room to my sleeping room at night, since of course we're prohibited from keeping lights lit "superflously." On the bright (well, dark) side, I can't stay in the hallway for very long since it's unheated and I must watch that my toes don't freeze and stick to the floor. If they did, I fear that Madame would lament their clashing with the rest of the body in the painting outside my room (for whom I fear as well since she looks like she could use a sweater, or at least a shirt).

The other night, my friend described her poor relationship with a previous host mom, and I began to imagine a scene of an abroad student raiding his or her host family. I localized my vision, and immediately a picture of water puddles on counter-tops entered my mind. Now I ask you, what does the following say about the house/-keeping here: if my host mom walked into the wash room and saw water on the counter-tops, she would gasp and understand with certainty my diabolic intentions.

What I really mean to say is that I absolutely adore my host mom, and with every passing day we're growing to further get each other. She came home with an urn and havdalah candle for me, and when I asked to reimburse her she explained that "Hashem paid." I told her that I too appreciate Kabbalah, describing my unexpected appreciation of the Tania. She asked me if I have a fiancé in les États-Unis, and (unrelated?) offered me nail-polish remover for my chipped self-manicure.

And now, my most redemptive moment of the day: upon learning experientially and painfully repeatedly that I need to learn French and fast, I sought new, maximally enjoyable resources, whereupon I found [painfully adorable], [upliftingly pretty], and lots more. Watch out all ye mockers of my pah trey b'yen frroncez - Simba and Tarzan are my new primary sources of extra-curricular vocabulary and accent help. If you'd entered my room around 2am this morning, you'd have heard me repeating after them - C'est moi Simba, c'est moi le roi...


**Why hasn't postmodernism done away with the universal "they"? Do they all still share the same view? Didn't we kill the Father, Author, and Word? If there are a multiplicity of realities, how is it that they all agree?! Maybe they have some advice to offer the rest of the world, 'cuz who else in history shared such unanimous, harmonious opinions outside of them?!