He was an exchange student at our house one summer.
He criticized everything that was even vaguely American, followed by an explanation about how the French did it better.
I thought him insufferably arrogant and rude, and I'm sure he thought the same of me because I didn't want to hear what he had to say. I thought he'd come to learn about America, he thought we'd invited him so we could learn about France.
One lazy afternoon, I suggested a game of Monopoly, next to the big sunny window in the living room. Mostly because I didn't want to talk, but I didn't want him to go home complaining that we were rude or ignored him. While I can certainly be competative when it comes to manners, I'm really not competative in board games. Which was a good thing because I was losing badly, but I dreaded the comments I was sure he'd make, about how he based his strategy on the French economic system or something.
And thats when I rolled and landed on his newly hoteled Boardwalk. Obvious bankruptcy for me. I cringed.
He looked out the window at something pointedly. I looked to see what he was looking at and felt the board nudged. I looked down and my little silver piece (the man on the horse, I remember) was two spaces down on a piece of property I owned.
I looked back up at him, and he was straight-faced and rolling the dice for his turn.
I learned something, not just about cultures or people that summer, but about how we can all get along. That's its often not about our differences or how we express ourselves, because then we'd be hopelessly lost, but that all its really about it keeping everyone in the game.
For the rest of the summer, we'd finish each arguement with a grin.
And then came the day he was due to leave, and we were standing in front of that same window. It was awkward, I didn't know what to say.
"Go back to your precious France and leave me to soak up my California sun in peace," then sticking out my tongue, that just seemed too snotty and American.
A kiss? Much too French.
So I looked pointedly out the window. And when he looked, I snuck in a hug.
He criticized everything that was even vaguely American, followed by an explanation about how the French did it better.
I thought him insufferably arrogant and rude, and I'm sure he thought the same of me because I didn't want to hear what he had to say. I thought he'd come to learn about America, he thought we'd invited him so we could learn about France.
One lazy afternoon, I suggested a game of Monopoly, next to the big sunny window in the living room. Mostly because I didn't want to talk, but I didn't want him to go home complaining that we were rude or ignored him. While I can certainly be competative when it comes to manners, I'm really not competative in board games. Which was a good thing because I was losing badly, but I dreaded the comments I was sure he'd make, about how he based his strategy on the French economic system or something.
And thats when I rolled and landed on his newly hoteled Boardwalk. Obvious bankruptcy for me. I cringed.
He looked out the window at something pointedly. I looked to see what he was looking at and felt the board nudged. I looked down and my little silver piece (the man on the horse, I remember) was two spaces down on a piece of property I owned.
I looked back up at him, and he was straight-faced and rolling the dice for his turn.
I learned something, not just about cultures or people that summer, but about how we can all get along. That's its often not about our differences or how we express ourselves, because then we'd be hopelessly lost, but that all its really about it keeping everyone in the game.
For the rest of the summer, we'd finish each arguement with a grin.
And then came the day he was due to leave, and we were standing in front of that same window. It was awkward, I didn't know what to say.
"Go back to your precious France and leave me to soak up my California sun in peace," then sticking out my tongue, that just seemed too snotty and American.
A kiss? Much too French.
So I looked pointedly out the window. And when he looked, I snuck in a hug.
3 Comments:
Awww that's cute.
See, your perspective in situations such as these just make me admire and love you more.
I love you.
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