The Acting Project

French Art French History French Fries French Toast and French men.

Piper Holiday is on the right

4

French Art, French History, French Fries, French Toast, and French men.

"Boy, those French! They have a different word for everything." -Steve Martin

As we walk to Mr. Jones' house we take a stop by the coffee shop. This is my favorite coffee shop its not like a regular Starbucks. It's strange and odd and cooky. Like me I guess. They have magazine clippings of articles and celebs faces on all of the walls. The furniture is all mixed and matched. The people that work here are even stranger. But they can make one good cup of coffee.

Brian is in the shop with a hangover, I think. He has on his dark sunglasses on to hide the dark circles under his eyes. Camille and I don't want him to spot us, because he will ask us to tag along. I love him but he has no filter and complains too much. So we sneak around the coffee shop, but by the time we leave we realize he is asleep. Completely dead to the world.

We get to the professor's house and he is eager to let us in. The giant glass door is swung open.

"Good morning ladies. Let's get down to business." He says in his cheery voice. We take us seat and I pull out my notebook. "So what is your name?"

"Ariella Justine Damita. My mother is Rose and my father is Jean-Louis Damita. I am from Versailles, France. I have lived there for majority of my life. Until recently when I moved to Paris. I sell jewelry and souvenirs on a cart not far form the Eiffel tower." I finish.

"Brilliant! Just brilliant!" He cheers.

This went on for a couple weeks. He would ask me something in French and I would respond. Talking over lots of information like: Where I was going to live, practicing my French, learning about the culture and packing, packing, and more packing!

The day I leave, I have so many people to say goodbye to. I start at the university. Saying goodbye to all my professors. Some of them wrote me encouraging letters and gave me some money for the trip.

Then the coffee shop, I said goodbye to my favorite barista. I went my job and they all had tears flowing and my boss gave me a some chocolate (like I need to gain more weight), but it was nice.

Finally I say goodbye to all my friends and then finally the professor.

My last talk with the professor for a while, I don't think I'm prepared for this. I suggested we talk on the phone or Skype each other, but he just got confused. This was one talk I'm sure I will never forget.

http://www.polyvore.com/flight_33/set?id=82322519

"Do you have your passport?" He asks for the millionth time.

"Yes." I roll my eyes.

"All of your things?" He is a persistent little man. He acts like a father.

"A lot of it, I sent to your friend's niece. So it will be waiting for me when I get there." I say.

"Great. One last thing, as you know I don't have any children or close family. But getting to know and be your teacher over the past four years has been so special to me. If I had a daughter I would want her to be just like you. You are kind of like a daughter me." He says to me. Tears are welling up in my eyes again.

The professor reaches over and gives me a big hug and says, "Osent r'ever."

I wouldn't find out until later that it meant, "Dare to dream."

With that in mind I said goodbye and I left for the airport. Camille offered to drive me there.

I was so scared for what is going to come in my future, but I can't turn back now. Full speed ahead and I already bought my plane ticket. My foot wouldn't stop tapping on the dash where I placed my feet.