So, today for the first time I looked around my room and actually felt kind of at home in it. As you read this blog, please feel free to imagine me here. In fact to aid this, and in case you were wondering what conditions a reasonably poor exchange student in france is living under, here’s a quick (read: longwinded) description.
When you walk in the door you’ll see every pair of shoes I have (there are 3). Hanging on hooks there are coats; one is mine, one was leant to me by someone and one was lent to someone else by someone else, but now I have it. To the left is the bathroom. You wont see much if you open the door except a clothesline (= piece of twine strung between the shower rail and the towel rail. That was bracket equals there, not backwards stupid face) with clothes somehow attached without the use of any pegs. Walk a bit further forward and you’ll come across the kitchenette on the left. The shelf is piled quite high with French biscuits and biscottes and every kind of lentil and there are teabags scattered everywhere because I used the box to make a pencil tin. The stove has a pot of water boiling on it so that in an hour’s time I can drink tea. The fridge has cat magnets all over it. They are there to remind me that I have a budget and can’t afford to waste money on stupid crap like cat magnets. Keep going forward.
To the right is my corkboard. I’ve pinned up all my important papers, like enrolment info, emergency phone numbers, map of the campus, a picture coloured in by a 5 year old, photos of my friends dressed as archeologists from 1895 and a James Bond poster from one of the Sean Connery movies.. I don’t think I’ve seen it. Now you’re in the main part of the room.
That big map on the left is the top half of France, in case I forget where I am. Then I have a mirror on the wall, which actually consists of several small mirrors. Sometimes they misalign themselves and it looks like my head is on crooked. Behind the mirror is a built in wardrobe with about 3 things hanging up and 80 shopping bags because I consistently fail to remember to take them with me. My bed has a bright stripey quilt and several old old blankets that I like to pretend aren’t there. Then there’s the heater. When the man showed me the room he gave me instructions and diagrams for the heater, then explained and showed me how to use it just in case. And yet, no matter how many buttons I press it just does its own thing and comes on whenever it feels the need.
Next to the heater is the window with a great view of the piles of uncollected rubbish (I think I mentioned the strike), some kind of mini forest and a uni residence that does have internet in their rooms. Then there’s my “book” shelf, which actually houses tourist pamphlets, gloves, watches, army knife, padlocks, an ashtray full of foreign coins and who know what else I haven’t really looked. That girl sitting at the desk / table next to the bookshelf is me. Didn’t recognize me? That’s because everything I’m wearing I bought here in France. What’s all that crap on the desk? Well there’s a lamp and some cords and booklets and the tea/stationary box and a Christmas card from my parents, but you were probably talking about the infinite sheets of paper I’ve been using to try and create a combination of subjects that don’t clash (we have to make our own timetables). I think I’m going to end up with courses from three different degrees. Not cool. Oops I have to go downstairs and get my other clothes out of the dryer. Until next time - high 5.
Actually, while I’m here,
Gross Things I Have Eaten #4
Vegetables with Thai Curry and Soft Noodles. This was in Glasgow. I really really felt like Newtown Thai so we went into a generic Asian place and I attempted to construct Thai food using the options on offer. Big mistake. Firstly it was ready in about 5 seconds, and batch theory does not apply since no one else was in there. Secondly, the noodles were not the rice noodles I was hoping for and I don’t remember the vegetables but I wasn’t impressed. Thirdly, the Thai curry wasn’t green curry or red curry or yellow curry… it tasted like mucus.
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