Author: Harith

Every blunder in French is either blasphemous or sexually inappropriate. During the monotonous 40-minute shuttle to Marseille, I always keep my eyes peeled for a stretch of graffiti that reads “Christ est mort pour nos peches” – “Jesus died for our peaches.” In the split second the writing is in sight, I steady my phone and snapchat a picture to every French

The first advice to someone who has never visited France should be to never say no when someone offers cheese. Gastronomical reasons aside, cheese symbolizes something more important – a something well-conveyed to me during my first dinner with my host family. “Harith, would you like to try a little bit of cheese?” asked my host-mother, extending an entire unopened