So, “French Bred”. What does that mean? I’m starting this blog to write about my experience as a French-American living near Paris. I’m just back home in France from vacation in the US where my mom is from, but where I have never lived. And yet, I speak perfect English with an American accent, and can switch effortlessly to native French. I live a hybrid life in which I eat bagels and baguettes, and pancakes as well as crepes. I’m in a French school with an American section, the Lycée International, so even at school, my life is divided. I like it that way.
Now, the “rentrée scolaire”, the start of school is in full swing. The frantic race to prepare all the paper, pens, pencils, and scientific calculators needed for school has begun, and the store is full of people spending fortunes on school supplies. This year, I am going into 2nde, that is, 10th grade, the first year of high school in France. Because I'm in a special international school, with both French and American coursework, I have 38 hours of school per week, not counting homework, activities, or even the hour a day I have for lunch. I keep trying to tell myself how lucky I am.
Why am I starting a blog when already I have no time to myself?
The first day of school is tomorrow, so I’m anxious to meet my teachers and to find out my time table. I’ll start at 8 a.m. every day of the week, and can finish as late as 6 p.m.! That’s the price I pay for leading my double life.
I have a younger brother and sister who started school today. French style, my brother gets a two-hour lunch break, and when he gets home, I'll hear all about his first day of school. It'll be my last chance to relax, not worry about homework, and play with our "bichon Maltais" or Maltese puppy, Muffin, (pronounced by the French "Muffeen").
See you later!
Pierre
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