“Où est ma nounou?”: What It’s Like Nannying in Paris
His mother said to me, “French mothers can be wild. That one in particular is a monster.”
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My relationship with my French teachers became more like the ones I had with my therapists: I desperately wanted them to like me.
My life as an American in Paris is a far cry from what the glamorous direct-to-DVD movies make it out to be. Still, that’s the story I tell.
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When my grandmother died, lamas stayed for five days next to her body, guiding her through bardo by reading from The Tibetan Book of the Dead.