Grown Ass American Femme

The first week I found Martine's put off demeanor towards my debutant (beginner) american self endearing and a point of encouragement to speak french. The only problem was that the more I went for it the more annoyed she got. She really didn't like me. When ever I said anything her face took an immediate stance of disgust and then would speak to me smugly in english. It got to a point where I just stopped talking. Meal times were really uncomfortable because she would sit across from me and just stare at me, then speak freely and friendly with Stefanie. 

8/9/2013 - Breakfast

Martine asked me a question in english. Before I could get more than four words out she cut me off and sternly said, "Your accent is very strong. It's a very strong American accent. Slow down. I don't understand you when you speak." Stefanie and I looked at each other as if she we couldn't believe she just said that.

1. My natural speech pattern is not fast and I take time to get words out even when speaking to native english speakers. It's slowed even more being in France because people don't speak english fluently and this is always taken into consideration. 
2. Who is she to tell me my accent is strong when speaking my native language?
3. Fuck her. I refuse to feel bad about being from the United States. Americans are good people. As a nation we are not perfect, but we are welcoming, warm, and wonderful. We have our issues and there are exceptions, but we won't make you feel bad about being from another country. We love it. (I make these generalizations based off my experiences and american people in my life). 

I'm not a little girl. I am a grown ass american woman. 

At lunch time I bumped into Stefanie and we chatted about the conversation from the morning. She had just gotten out of her exit meeting of reviewing the college and her experience with the host family.  She gave Martine a 10 and a 5. A 10 because Martine was good to her and 5 because Martine was mean to me and it was quite obvious.  Stefanie was going back to Germany the next day and we both agreed it would be best to find another family to stay with. 

It was my lucky day because I found another family that would let me move in the following morning.

Next morning a sleepy German picked me up from the Mean Martine's flat. 


The Germans really have been a great help to me here in France. Thank you Stefanie and Jenz!


As for Martine, she can go suck on a strawberry and bring a little more sweetness into her life.

Some Carla Bruni to take peace out on:






 



 


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