Out of all my experiences in France so far, the one that I have regrettably appreciated the least has been my living situation. I currently rent a large bedroom that I found early on through Airbnb, and I’ve lived with a woman and her 18-year-old son for the last seven months. Sure, I felt very lucky to not have had to go through the whole business of moving around a lot into temporary apartments, or the stressful search for an affordable place. But, the months of isolation and feeling unwelcome have marred my overall enjoyable experience of living abroad as a foreign teaching assistant.
I don’t like to talk about it, because I want to have rosy-tinted montages in my head of my time in France, and the only reason I feel compelled to write about it at this moment, at 1 in the morning, is because I was in the middle of Skyping my boyfriend at midnight and maybe I was disturbing them, or something, but for whatever reason, without warning, they seem to have cut me off from the internet network completely. Maybe I’m just being paranoid because of my unenthusiastic opinions about them, but I am pretty sure the wireless network is still working, because I can locate its strong signal on my phone and on my computer, but I am unable to join with either device, using the password given to me at the beginning – which has worked recently for other Airbnb guests.
Let me be honest – I was trying to lower my voice! I usually keep pretty quiet! She has only had to tell me once in 7 months that I was laughing too loudly, and I was immediately quiet after that. If I was being too loud this time, no one said a thing. There was no warning whatsoever. If I had been conscious of a problem, I would have acted immediately. So, I don’t know what exactly it could have been, but I find it quite unfair, and I am quite angry now. I think I have a right to be angry, since I am still paying for this room + utilities, and I have always paid the full month, even though I’ve really only lived here 5 out of the first 7 months, and even though I am leaving a week early this 8th month. Sadly, my feelings towards this imminent event are of anticipated relief and a certain sense of I can’t wait to get out of here. I mean, my suitcases are 80% packed. I could leave tomorrow if I had to.
Perhaps I should have left after the first 3 months, before the blinds were drawn back in my mind, and I was able to get a different view of the situation. But then again, I did not have a full grasp of the situation until it was well into January/February. Essentially, I feel like an unwanted guest who continues to overstay my welcome. Yes, my hostess is nice and well intentioned. But that’s all I ever seem to be able to say about her when people ask me how I like living here. For someone who used to host many homestay students and still hosts Airbnb guests year-round, she should be used to having guests – but maybe that’s all she really prefers – temporary guests who stay for a brief period of time, so she doesn’t have to continue a prolonged interaction with them, or to spend time with them. I had a lovely, now blighted dream about coming to France, meeting a family, becoming close with them, learning to cook from a Frenchwoman in her home, sharing meals and laughs together. The part about coming to France came true, but alas, not all dreams can come true, I suppose. Continue reading
auds & ends 