Living with lovely Madame Pajot

Whenever friends or family back home hear that I am studying abroad in Paris, there is a series of typical questions that ensue. How do you like France? is usually the generic opener, followed by Do they really hate Americans? and How’s the food?.

The real killer, though, is when they finally ask Do you like your host family?. While the other usual questions are necessary but relatively benign, this question actually penetrates to the essence of my experience so far. When posing the casual question, people often don’t realize what kind of conversation they are getting themselves into.

My host “family” actually consists of a single woman, Madame Anne Pajot. At age 76, she is a caring and sufficiently crazy mother of two, grandmother of six (possibly more, still undetermined), was divorced at age 26 (or actually traumatically abandoned by her husband for her Spanish best friend), ex-real estate agent, ex-aristocratic socialite (according to her at least), and ex-model.

Living with Madame, as I lovingly call her, has been a fascinating experience, to say the least. She has unconsciously taught me countless life lessons about being afraid of everything, especially electricity fires and good-looking men, the French way of life, the value of butter when cooking, and most importantly, that being a grandmother transcends all cultures.

Before I moved to Paris, I was frequently warned that the French are surprisingly cold, unwelcoming and painfully private. While this may be true to a certain extent, Madame Pajot has proved that this is one stereotype that does not always apply.

When I arrived at her apartment, tired from the long flight from Boston and sore from lugging my 2 huge suitcases around Charles de Gaulle and all the way to the Latin Quarter, I was greeted at the large, regal wooden door with two huge bisous (French kisses on the cheek) and a loud exclamation: “C’est toi, All-i-son?!” Madame was dressed in what I have now learned is her regular outfit: a white terrycloth bathrobe, trendy rectangular tortoiseshell framed glasses, multicolored curlers, red lipstick and batting eyelashes.

Like old people throughout the world, she can talk for hours without any need for a response, she cooks regularly, watches murder mysteries and political commentaries on TV all day long, and talks on the phone in between her favorite TV shows. Very loudly, I can assure you, considering my bedroom wall is also the wall to her bedroom/sitting room/TV room where she spends all of her time.

Upon our first dinner together, she decided to share how her husband left her and her two children when she was only 26. In case you’re curious, he was much uglier than Madame’s other “lovers” and he ultimately left her for “that Portugese bitch, who looks like a cat.” Madame went on to question me on my religion, expressing slight disappointment that I was Protestant and not Catholic. Later on, she asked what I thought about “making love” before marriage, because she didn’t do it before she was married but in this day and age, she would.

There are countless stories about Madame, way too many to fit in this column. She has proved to be much more than just a host mother, or grandmother. She is a constant source of entertainment (sometimes intentional, sometimes not), and without a doubt a defining element in my never-ending comparison of France vs. America, as well as myself in France vs. America.

Since 2001, undergraduate participation in study abroad at Harvard has seen an increase of 313. Since so many of our peers - indeed, perhaps yourself - have spent time away from the Ivy Tower, we thought it best to see what current students living and studying abroad are up to. Allison Baum ‘09 is currently spending the semester in Paris, and sent us this postcard telling us about her experience living in the City of Light with Madame Anne Pajot...