First Impressions.

I have arrived! As many of you know I am here safely in Aix. My journey here was not without its adventures (which let’s be real isn’t that point of this?). Here’s a recap:

My check in at the Air France counter in San Francisco was the first snag I unexpectedly hit. The bag I was to carry on was too heavy, so I unexpectedly had to check it in. No problem, right? Wrong.

In it was anything irreplaceable (like the Breaking Dawn book Sarah had written in) my favorite and most precious jewelry, Lola (my laptop), and various other momento’s. It also contained everything I would need for up to 4 days, if and when my luggage didn’t make it to the airport in Marseille.

If my luggage didn’t make it now, I would have six pairs of shoes, but nothing to wear.

Ten hours and three diet cokes later, I arrived in Paris. Our descent over the city and into Charles De Gaulle reminded me of how powerful Paris is.

There is nothing like it.

The sheer size that it appears to be from the air nearly brings any highly emotional person (which we all know I am) to tears. Just imagining the history of the city and the cosmopolitan feel that it has as a modern day capitol makes you excited about life.

As far as the eye can see, there are buildings. People. Businesses.

At the airport in Paris we joined our other half, the Los Angeles group flight students, and anxiously awaited our one and half hour flight south.

As soon as the captain of the plane announced (in French) that we were beginning our descent into Marseille, my eyes flew open out of my quazi plane slumber and looked out my window.

The deep blue of the Mediterranean Sea took my breath away, literally. Looking down on this seaside town, with its two and three story cream-colored French villas with red shutters, rooftop gardens and pristine blue-green swimming pools, I could barely believe this was new home.

The resident director met us promptly at the airport, and I anxiously watched the luggage carousel as all my bags slowly made their way to me.

When the automatic sliding glass door opened to let me out of the airport, my face was met with a heat not unlike that of summertime in Chico. The smell of sea salt, and the humid ocean air were the only difference, washing over a girl like the smell of a strong perfume.

These last few days have been a blur. I love being back in France, and I have heard time and time again how lucky I am to be a student in southern France by people I meet, booth French and foreigners alike.

I am much more confident speaking French (by speaking I mean mostly motioning, pointing and muttering what I think I might mean) than I was last summer.

I have already fallen in love with Aix en Provence. Not only is the city beautiful, but people are so friendly it has a feeling like the city is so alive. There are so many happy couples holding hands, families with children, and young people walking the streets, eating at cafes , and shopping at the many boutiques all around town.

As I walked around the city, taking in the sights and smells, I realized why there have been so many books written on life in Provence (all the Peter Mayle books, ie). Life seems somehow sweeter, slower and more in tune with human nature...almost like the people are closer to the earth.

In Aix, there is a lot of green ivy that grows on the buildings, especially in the residential parts of town. The feeling you get when you see green leaves wrapped around beige and ivory toned walls and crispy white shutters is unlike anything you experience in the States, even in the "country".

Today was our first orientation day. We met with our resident director (Markus from CSU Long Beach) and Caroline (our assistant director), she’s a French local and native. Both seem very competent.

I have another two weeks of orientation, which include a cell phone day, apartments/housing day, banking day, ect… Orientation only goes from 10-12, so we always have the afternoons free to go to the fresh fruit market or take naps to catch up on our sleep.

Mr. Jetlag has wanted to be my best friend, but I’ve avoided sleeping during the California night time so as to adjust more quickly.

The internet costs 3 euro a day at our residence hotel, so who knows how much longer we will want to pay for it! I will be in my newly found apartment soon enough, however, then the skyping can begin.

So far, so good.