The house was quite a long way out of town, and served by a very infrequent bus service. There was a bed, and a loo. Apart from that there was a wash basin, but very little else. Certainly nothing by way of a shower or a bath. Nothing was ever said about meals.
What student would put up with this? Well, I did, in Lyon ('Lions' we called it, in true British fashion). I had to offer a language to enter the Diplomatic Service, and French seemed the only possibility. I'd done it at school for around 8 years, and one - not surprisingly - wasn't allowed to offer dead languages like Latin and Greek in the exam. The idea apparently was that one was supposed to demonstrate 'potential' - i.e. an ability to learn a foreign language. So, having decided that I'd meet too many other English speakers in Paris, I enrolled at the University of Lyon for an English course. Unluckily at school I had always been bottom of the class in French, being spectacularly feeble in the spoken language.
On arrival in Lyon I had managed (with some difficulty) to locate the accommodation officer at the university. Not being used to the French queuing system I stood back modestly and was amongst the last to be seen. Perhaps that was one reason I ended up in such a dump. Perhaps another reason was that the woman (the officer) gabbled away in her own tongue and I caught hardly a word. She gave me the address and mumbled something about Bus route 4, but luckily another British student was going in the same direction and dropped me off, otherwise I'd still be wandering around Lyon to this day.
The meals situation soon resolved itself in not perhaps the most satisfactory fashion. It seemed the family was going to provide nothing: not only that, I was told - even I caught the word "Non" - that I couldn't eat in the house, and that a crumb left on the floor would result in the direst of penalties. Lunch and dinner were available in a sort of enormous student canteen. I particularly recall the French non-queuing system: I along with 1,000 others would arrive about an hour early and all try to push to the front. It was quite amiable; the French clearly regarded this non-queuing as part of the fun of being a student. I saw the same people - the hungriest ones presumably - day after day, and we got quite pally despite my severe linguistic limitations. When we finally rushed in we got served with a metal tray, nearly always with 'steak', which I presume was horsemeat.
Luckily for me I got one decent meal a week. I was asked to teach English conversation to an 18 year old French boy 1 hour a week. Not having done my TEFL course at this point I'm sure I was a dreadful teacher. But the lessons were in his home, and the boy's mother produced an excellent dinner, although rather richer than I was used to, and certainly a lot richer than the student fare.
In England I was used to eating breakfast, and I wondered how to resolve this serious lack in France. Not having the money to find a restaurant every morning all I could manage was to purchase a baguette each morning at the local boulangerie and munch it during my interminable wait for a bus.
The family, who seemed very keen not to get to know their strange English guest in any way at all, permitted me one bath a week. I would like to have gone on the odd jog, but the lack of a shower made this out of the question. So I investigated sports as offered by the university. There were only 2. Fencing wasn't for me and that left rugby, but the bureaucracy defeated me: 6 photos, a doctor's certificate, buying boots, etc. - it was all too much, and anyway there were only about 2 games per term.
I remained amongst the great unwashed...to cap a dismal episode I also learnt no French and never got into the Diplomatic Corps!
Luckily for our students, OISE Oxford prides itself on the high quality of our host family accommodation. Quite unlike the hosts from my episode, our families are keen to engage with students and embrace the opportunity for cross cultural learning, and they provide breakfast and dinner!
What student would put up with this? Well, I did, in Lyon ('Lions' we called it, in true British fashion). I had to offer a language to enter the Diplomatic Service, and French seemed the only possibility. I'd done it at school for around 8 years, and one - not surprisingly - wasn't allowed to offer dead languages like Latin and Greek in the exam. The idea apparently was that one was supposed to demonstrate 'potential' - i.e. an ability to learn a foreign language. So, having decided that I'd meet too many other English speakers in Paris, I enrolled at the University of Lyon for an English course. Unluckily at school I had always been bottom of the class in French, being spectacularly feeble in the spoken language.
On arrival in Lyon I had managed (with some difficulty) to locate the accommodation officer at the university. Not being used to the French queuing system I stood back modestly and was amongst the last to be seen. Perhaps that was one reason I ended up in such a dump. Perhaps another reason was that the woman (the officer) gabbled away in her own tongue and I caught hardly a word. She gave me the address and mumbled something about Bus route 4, but luckily another British student was going in the same direction and dropped me off, otherwise I'd still be wandering around Lyon to this day.
The meals situation soon resolved itself in not perhaps the most satisfactory fashion. It seemed the family was going to provide nothing: not only that, I was told - even I caught the word "Non" - that I couldn't eat in the house, and that a crumb left on the floor would result in the direst of penalties. Lunch and dinner were available in a sort of enormous student canteen. I particularly recall the French non-queuing system: I along with 1,000 others would arrive about an hour early and all try to push to the front. It was quite amiable; the French clearly regarded this non-queuing as part of the fun of being a student. I saw the same people - the hungriest ones presumably - day after day, and we got quite pally despite my severe linguistic limitations. When we finally rushed in we got served with a metal tray, nearly always with 'steak', which I presume was horsemeat.
Luckily for me I got one decent meal a week. I was asked to teach English conversation to an 18 year old French boy 1 hour a week. Not having done my TEFL course at this point I'm sure I was a dreadful teacher. But the lessons were in his home, and the boy's mother produced an excellent dinner, although rather richer than I was used to, and certainly a lot richer than the student fare.
In England I was used to eating breakfast, and I wondered how to resolve this serious lack in France. Not having the money to find a restaurant every morning all I could manage was to purchase a baguette each morning at the local boulangerie and munch it during my interminable wait for a bus.
The family, who seemed very keen not to get to know their strange English guest in any way at all, permitted me one bath a week. I would like to have gone on the odd jog, but the lack of a shower made this out of the question. So I investigated sports as offered by the university. There were only 2. Fencing wasn't for me and that left rugby, but the bureaucracy defeated me: 6 photos, a doctor's certificate, buying boots, etc. - it was all too much, and anyway there were only about 2 games per term.
I remained amongst the great unwashed...to cap a dismal episode I also learnt no French and never got into the Diplomatic Corps!
Luckily for our students, OISE Oxford prides itself on the high quality of our host family accommodation. Quite unlike the hosts from my episode, our families are keen to engage with students and embrace the opportunity for cross cultural learning, and they provide breakfast and dinner!
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