THE RAIN IN MAZAMET FALLS MAINLY ON THE...

They say 'it is the rain of Mazamet.' Last night everyone knew it was coming. It was a dark and blustery day. This morning, I woke up to grey skies and a downpour of beautiful rain. Rain is always wonderful. There is no exception, or so I thought.

Today I had my first private French lesson with Madame Smith. Her house is a 45 minute walk from the house that I am staying in. No problem, I was excited for a wonderfully long walk through the streets of Mazamet 3 times a week. My lesson began at 11 this morning, so I put on everything that I had that was remotely warm and went on my way. No when Marie said that it was summer here, I trusted her and threw out all of the warm clothes, sweaters, jackets, sweatpants, etc, that I had packed when my suitcases were too heavy. I am seriously wishing that I hadn't.

I don't have my phone, so I couldn't google map this crazy address of 37 De Labyerouse Mazamet, so before I left, I drew a map from my computer and hoped that I would make it. I shouldn't have been so hopeful. It was a rough adventure.

Things were going as well as they could have in a downpour in summer attire on the cobblestone roads. I think that I was headed in the right direction for quite some time until I got trapped at a dead end. Because I had to turn myself around, I got extremely confused. This isn't a grid system like the streets in Utah. No, these are winding, twisting, differently sized, confusing streets with French names and no numbers or signs. I was lost. By this time, my handmade map was useless because the ink had completely run off of the tearing pages. I was lost in the flooded streets of France with no direction, no way to tell the time, and no idea what to do. So I did the only sensible thing that I could think of. I started knocking on doors to find help.

I knocked on maybe 15 doors before I found someone who could remotely understand what I was trying to do. She didn't speak English, but she understood. She actually persisted that she drive me there. The clock in her car told me I had been right to leave an hour and a half early. I had been walking in the rain for nearly an hour and 15 minutes. She dropped me off where she thought I was supposed to be, I said Merci Beaucoup as many times as I could and continued my quest. I knocked on several more doors before I finally got someone who knew her name and showed me the confusing route to get to her house from there.

When I got there, I was horribly late and completely embarrassed. She had me fill out a few forms, but when she handed me a pen, I couldn't hold it because my hand was completely numb. Not only could I not speak any French with her, I also couldn't write. I was trying to write with the pen in both of my hands like the 1st graders do in class. I wish I could have taken a picture of my writing. Madame Smith looked at the forms and then at me like she might have taken on a crazy and unpredictable student who might not have the aptitude for learning anything at all.

When I left, I put on my freezing and wet light jacket and the scarf I brought that was like putting on a wet blanket and made my journey home.

By the time I got home I thought I might die. The only heat I know of is actually in my bathroom. There are these bars that only remotely give off some heat. So I have cranked it up and have been pressed against them ever since.

Here is to a rainy day in Mazamet.