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Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Soirée Deguisement

I entered into the room and 15 sets of French eyes stared at me expectedly, I nodded, waved, and then noted that my friend was bustling around already giving the ‘bises’ and saying the appropriate ‘bonsoir’.  It was the first true party that I was invited to by my promotion or the people that are in your school program, they decided to do a sort of soirée déguisement or costume party.  Of course when I was packing my 3 luggages in 2010 I didn’t exactly think to pack up my costumes, none of my fairy dresses, wings or even cat costumes.  So for this soirée I was at a loss for a costume.  Lucky me, on one of my discoveries around Lyon that I came across a little magasin de déguisement owned by a typical round chubby Frenchman.  Costumes ranged between 10-15€ and I was able to pick up some cheap cat ears and a tail for only 11€.

We had worked our butts off all day, hashing through an etudes de cas which is simply a case study- French style.  Meaning: all in French, the whole head ache of French teams (shouting out ideas, hashing it out until you need to crawl to bed) and little to no direction.  From 8am to 5pm we worked, with little breaks and just a quick sandwich to keep it going.

Needless to say, we wanted to drink in massive quantities.  In order to try to get to the party and not feel totally left out since I am that silly étrangère, I got together with another girl in my class (a devil that night) and we métro’d it up to the host’s apartment.

Thus I found myself in a room of 15 French people, one from Israel, and myself.  I served myself a nice warmed up glass of Rum punch and began the drinking.  If I try to remember the conversations I had, well, I simply can’t.  There was some discussions regarding ‘French Fillers’, which will have to be on its own in a blog… it was hilarious.  Otherwise, typical questions such as comment est-ce que tu as appris de parler aussi bien Français que ça? or est-ce que c’est vrai que les filles sont « easy » aux USA ? Well.

The night got rolling, and seemed to pass by in a blur.  A couple of the class-mates decided to do a pretty funny mock-up of two “typical Americans” that sort of went like this:
Girl: Yesssss, yesssss, I uhm amahricannn, I eet zes burgurs uhn hei luhk beer!
Guy: Yoo luhk beer? Me hei lahk yoo shoe!
Girl: yess yess, zhis moosic ehs very nuhce!
Guy: I am agree!

I almost blew my warm rum cocktail out of my nose.

Another dude came up, typically a French person and popped in the most ghetto rap I’d ever heard.  I started, bouche bée and said, “What you’re like a gangster from the Bronx or what?”

5 coupettes of warm rum and tequila drinks later I was happily claquée and my French friend mentioned it was time to go.  I looked at the clock and we had at least 20 minutes, I said as much and she said, “Yes, but we have to make the rounds,” The rounds?

I watched as she began to circle around and make the bise with everyone, saying, bonne soirée (different than bon soir) and simply making some goodbye small talk.  Well, bother, so much for escaping with a quick wave and a bye-bye.  I began making me rounds, and although doing the bises is something I’ve done a millions times since I’ve lived here, this felt odd.

Oui je dois partir, tu sais, pour le metro.
Bonne soirée.
Repeat about 50,000 times.

The best part was that my copine was much more bourrée than me and she was telling me all kinds of conneries.  We separated ways in the metro and I got on the last train with all the other alcoholic teenagers, etrangères, and clochards, and stared at a poster while I listened to the girl next to me, British, shouting out “SHOTS, SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS!!!!” over and over and over.
All in all, a good night!

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