Marjo

The new girl is here. She's... promising.

Her English is better than we'd expected it would be. Talk long enough, and she begins to have to flail around for words, but right off the bat, for short answers, she can handle things. Sometimes, she's faking it (just as I did with French); you'll ask her a question, and she'll say Yes, when that answer doesn't fit at all. But much of the time, she can work her way through a sentence. Knowing French helps, about half the time, as when she was trying to say that she likes the buildings in Paris, and all she could say was batiments.

She's very fit. Apparently, she plays handball competitively, to the point where she's been on a national team, playing France against the outre-mers, and against other countries. I asked if she wanted to play in the Olympics, and she didn't understand the question, but when I asked if she wanted to play on a team against other countries, she nodded vigorously.

She said that she eats pretty much anything, but it was clear at dinner that she'd never encountered a burrito before. On the other hand, she knew exactly what to do with the Belgian chocolate ice cream.

So - so far, so good.