Sheila found herself standing at the gate of a church in the suburbs. Earlier, she thought the driver brought her to the wrong address but stopped herself from asking when she saw the welcome board of the school where she got the scholars.h.i.+p, La Delicatesse. The driver unloaded her baggage and left her alone. After ringing the doorbell, a girl dressed as a nun opened the gate for her."Come in. I think you"re Miss Sheila Hernandez from the Philippines." Sheila looked down, she noted, she was a foot taller than the girl.
"Hi, I"m Sheila. Just simply call me Sheila. No need for the Miss." Sheila"s eyes roamed the area. It was actually a church and they pa.s.sed through a hallway to the back. "What"s your name?" She asked the girl.
"Just call me Harriet. I"ve been here since I was born. I hope you understand my English."
"You speak the language well more than I can speak French."
"I"m glad to hear that. I"m only good with English, the rector told me. So, I"m in charge of all the foreign students here."
"Is this really a culinary school?" Sheila asked as she walked behind the girl, towing her luggage.
"Aye, but it"s not as great as it used to be." Harriet brought her to a dormitory where she saw other people wearing chef outfits, including boys. The girl climbed the stairs and brought her to a room on the second floor.
"You might wonder why there are male students here. This was a monastery but it was abandoned after World War 2. The old rector kept the church. The owner of the school is a retired chef who is a benevolent supporter of the church." Harriet said.
Sheila stood in front of a bed covered with a white blanket with bolsters as pillows. "Feel at home." Harriet left her with a smile. The room had two beds but the other one was left uncovered, exposing the pale colored mattress. She opened the two empty cabinets and arranged her clothes. Her eyes wandered to a side door and her steps led her there and found a well cleaned white tiled bathroom and toilet.
She explored this small room of hers and opened the two windows. What welcomed her sight was a vast golden wheat field, ready for harvest. The wind caught her hair, blowing it into her eyes. Sheila closed her eyes, letting the wind rush freely over her face and neck, bristling against her skin. She opened her mouth and let the breeze fill it. A smell of fresh wheat caught her nostrils. Life"s good, she reminded herself.
After the brief inhalations and exhalations, her head turned to her left and saw a huge building. "That"s probably the school." She excitedly changed her clothes and went downstairs. A blond haired girl walked by and saw her but looked away without greeting. Sheila pa.s.sed another girl on the way down and the girl smiled back but ran fast to the mess hall.
"Run faster or you"ll miss lunch." The girl shouted as she reached the foot of the stairs.
"Lunch?" Sheila looked around the huge lobby and saw the clock stating twelve thirty in the afternoon. She ran after the girl and went into a large mess hall that could occupy fifty students but only twelve people were eating.
"Hi, I"m a new student here." She waved her hand with her sweetest smile. Some only nodded while some waved their hands and beckoned her to join them. Before she could sit, the blond girl came and pulled the chair from Sheila"s hand and sat right away.
What a great way to welcome a new student, Sheila thought.
The other students protested but the girl gave them a smirk. Sheila chose to avoid any mishaps on her first day in school and in France. It was a lovely day for her and any untoward behavior was of little substance.
She didn"t look back as she walked to a table where the food was arranged buffet style. There were only three dishes served: bread, steamed vegetables, and fish fillet. Condiments were on the side. A big loaf of cheese near the bread was ready for cutting. A short note was laid on the table. It stated each one can get more than one serving. "That"s nice." So she chose a few from each.
As she sat on an empty table. The blond girl stood and faced her, "I think you came to the wrong place, girl. You"re pretty. You should be a model."
Sheila felt flattered. "Thank you."
The girl played a curl on her hair and popped a bubble gum from her mouth. "Don"t think I"m praising you. I"m stating the obvious. You should work where your strength lies, your face. You"re not fit to be here nor to be a Chef."