Un vélo ? Ben ouais !

Et Voilà!!  The most recent (as if there were ever any other) love of my life.  After waiting oh so anxiously for any sort of response to the note I put up in the teacher's lounge, here I am today with my very own bike!  It's awesome in every way, from the fact that it is free, to the awesome paint scheme.  Nope, that's not the computer's awful graphics... it is indeed an interesting shade of teal, and purple.  And this is from a male math teacher too...  

I FINALLY figured out this afternoon where the teacher left the bike for me.  All week, other teachers I talked to kept telling me that yes, he had left the bike for me, had I found it yet?  He told me it was green and purple, and I looked over and over for a green and purple bike.  All of the bikes were either obviously not green and purple, or they were locked up.  I figured since the professor didn't give me any sort of key, I assumed I definitely wasn't figuring out something that was probably obvious.  So today I snagged him after lunch and explained that I'd looked over and over, and all the bikes were locked up.  He seemed alarmed, and kept saying, well it wasn't me who locked it.  Finally he said he would go look with me, and as he led me to a completely DIFFERENT bike storage place, it all fell into place.  Turns out there are two different places where people keep bikes on this campus- one for the students and another for the teachers.  Well, how was I supposed to know? So, all confusion finally solved, I happily pedaled away for my first test run.  And I rattled all the way there!  Nope, this bike doesn't squeak, it rattles : )

I decided to go to the grocery store, since I wanted to get a bike lock and some other groceries, and also because I'm still a little wary about which streets in Sens are one way, and which way they go.  But the route to the grocery store was safe, just a little path that takes me straight there.  And man, after spending 30 minutes walking there, it seems like you blink and you're there when you're on a bike!  Got all the way home without getting lost or runover too, quelle chance! 

I know it's going to sound weird, but now that I have a bike, I feel just a little bit more at home.  A little bit more free or able to explore.   Think about how much more is accessible to me now!  I was joking with a friend that now she'll see me pedaling to Paris on my bike, goggles on and white scarf around my neck.  Ok, I'm not that desperate yet, I'll pay the 8 euros it takes to get to Paris by train.  And maybe I'll even start training, so that one Saturday soon I can pedal myself the 12 kilometers to the nearest airport and flight school.... 

Tomorrow is my last class day before vacation.  This week flew by, as I guess it tends to do when you work for two days and then have two days off.  And I didn't even work on Monday, which was spent in another orientation meeting, this one for the English assistants in our department, Yonne.  We went to the capital of Yonne, Auxerre, which is a cute little town about 40 minutes south.  We spent the day with 6 other English assistants, talking about our schools and experiences, and brainstorming ideas for teaching this year.  There was one British girl and one Australian, and the rest of us are all Americans.  It was a nice opportunity to meet the rest of our team all around the region, and definitely good to have some travel buddies for the future! 

Also tomorrow, is the mark that I've already been here for a month! Which is just ridiculous to me, I can't believe it could have possibly already been a month.  Hope everyone is doing well, send me updates!  I'll try and write as often as I can over the vacation and before I leave, but I'll definitely be back after Nov. 6th!  Happy Toussaints/All Saints Day everyone!

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Dijon moments...

Bonjour à tous!

I have plenty to write today- I've just returned from a weekend full of wandering, absorbing Dijon and all it's little quirks.  I went to Dijon on Friday along with the other American English assistant here in Sens, for our obligatory and quite annoying/dare I say unnecessary medical appointment.  But, instead of letting the monotonous doctor's questions whether or not we're in 'bon santé' (good health), we decided to make a weekend of it, and invited a couple more American assistants to share it with us too!  

There were so many little parts of the weekend that made it so great, and something I think is really cool, is that apart from each other, each little part is actually quite ordinary.  But it's the ordinary-ness that I appreciated (and is so often overlooked, n'est-ce pas?).

Let me try to explain a little more.  On Saturday morning, we got to go the weekly marché in Djion centre, which is a Saturday morning full of commotion.  Although after four years of college I can guarantee I'm fully accustomed to lazy Saturday mornings, making my way to breakfast when most normal people are halfway through lunch, maybe staying in pj's longer than is socially acceptable, etc.  But things are different here, and I have to say, I love it.  Everyone and everything comes early to the marché, prepared to haggle for the best prices, toting empty shopping bags and caddies ready to be filled to the brim.  Curious dogs follow their owners around the corners of the marché, waiting impatiently for them to decide between des carrottes or maybe pommes de terres (potatoes) for dinner tonight.  Shoppers stop to ponder the perfect slice of cheese for the week, pick some fresh fish from the filets on display, choosing between various homemade jams or honey from a local vendor.  And if nothing else, they pause to 'faire les bisous' with their friends and favorite stall-owners

(kisses on each cheek).  The market has an overwhelming appeal, that's easily rubbed off on everyone who comes to see, whether foreigner or 85 year old Dijon native.  A place where the wonderful flower bouquets for sale are brighter and more beautiful than you thought possible- Lindsay and I even joked about them being photoshopped :D.  And 'il faut pas oublier' (let's not forget) most importantly, where the carrots are so fresh they still have dirt on them.  

After the marché, we went to the Musée des Beaux Arts de Dijon, where we wandered through the rooms of paintings and sculptures, which ranged from centuries old, to fairly modern art.  Another of my favorite moments that weekend, was when Lindsay and I had split off from our group for awhile, to 'se flâner'- this is

 one of my favorite verbs in French.  It means to stroll or wander, but with a sense that the destination is not the goal, nor does if even have much importance.  So, en train de se flâner, we walked down a tiny cobblestoned street, gazing in shop windows and occasionally stopping to take a picture of the Cathedral's spires peaking out

 from behind overlapping roofs. A group of 3 or 4 French tots were running down the street, playing tag or hide and seek, or just being kids. While we were passing a shop, we noticed a tiny little empty chair sitting right outside of the door, for really no purpose at all. One of the boys, running in front of the group, blew past us, but stopped ever so suddenly to sit in the chair, exclaiming, 'Pratique!', meaning, 'How Practical! How Convenient! A chair just for me!'.  Lindsay and I nearly fell over ourselves laughing, at how cute and genuine the moment was.  

After peeking in one of the four or five churches in Dijon (all within probably 6 blocks of each other, of course), Lindsay and I kept wandering down the random streets, turning when we felt like it, absorbed in conversation.  From across the street, we saw a door ajar, and I honestly didn't think much of it.  Lins suggested we check it out, so we crossed to see what curious things were hidden behind 'la porte'.  And man, where we surprised.  I

think I even audibly gasped when we looked beyond the doorway to what was inside.  It turned out to be a small museum commemorating François Rude, a sculpture and artist in Dijon in the early 18th century.  There, literally embedded into the opposing wall, was a sculpture that must have been 40 feet tall.  It's a scene showing the departure of volunteer warriors departing from France to fight the Prussians, and it can be described as nothing less than spectacular.  If for nothing else, than for sheer scope and size of his work. When we entered into the museum, mouths open and eyes wide, the museum guide told us they were closed, but after seeing how in awe I was, he didn't insist, and I took a few photos (none of which did justice of course). It was so unexpected, and so understated- it's probably possible there are even Dijon natives who don't know what's behind those doors.... Though they should!

Finally, another highlight of my weekend (I'm such a nerd), was the amazing store we stumbled upon right after being awestruck by the museum.  We found a little gem of a bookstore, but not just any bookstore.  A store selling 'des livres anciens', in other words, books as old as the printing press.  Imagine a scene à la Beauty and the Beast, only on a smaller scale.  A tiny black swinging ladder rested on one of several shelves full from top to bottom with beautifully bound books on every subject.  Blue spines, red spines, all embossed with gold or black neatly printed letters revealing the author and title.  En feuilletant (flipping through) a couple, it was hard to comprehend how much work must have gone into carefully printing each individual page, setting each line and sentence perfectly.  And it was great fun to imagine how many people much have read each chapter, murmuring

 the words silently to themselves, in a buggy, on a train, a plane somewhere.  To top it off, something that would of course ONLY happen in France, an older couple came into the store with their dog, who promptly came over to say hello to me, nuzzling it's nose and floppy ears against my leg.  Oh la France.  

There were of course many other moments during the weekend which were all sorts of fun- Dijon is such a great city, and a great size too.  But when I sat down to write today, these were the ones that seemed the most

 important.  The ones that really made the weekend so great.  That goes without saying of course, that visiting the one and only oh so famous Mustard Store came before all else.  Seriously, I've been there twice in almost 2 weeks or so- I wonder if they recognize me yet.  And when I run out of my jar of mustard I bought there the last time, I'll be traveling there again!  This time though, me and Lindsay left our own little... how do you say... personal mark to the store's guestbook (see below).  I'm sure we'll make someone smile someday, reading through that book! 

This is l'arc de triomphe that's on the main city street in Dijon.  At night of course

This is a picture from inside the market- it was chilly! And opposite is a picture of some of the amazing flowers that were lining 

the streets too ----->

La deuxième semaine

I'm at the end of my second week (which went just as quickly as the first) and thus dipped just a bit farther into the French lifestyle here.  

I've experienced some of my first classes alone with the students, most of which went fairly well.... On Monday I had a class with 12 or so 20 year old boys, all of whom have a fairly strong level of English.  Since they're a more technical-oriented group, I decided to give them an article on green jobs, which  I also wrote about here.  I've now realized that I'll most likely be spending the remainder of the semester (to keep their attention) talking about sports, sports, and more sports.  Maybe I'll try to explain baseball to them... 

On Thursday I had a couple new classes, which were for the most part in the same style as all the other introductory classes.  At 8 am, bright and early, before the sun had even come over the horizon, I acquainted myself with a groggy bunch of French teens.  Not groggy enough, however, to forget to ask me if I was a Democrat or Republican, what I thought about the war in Iraq, and if I would go to Las Vegas with one of them.  Oh là là.  

I had two wonderful days off in the middle of this week, and spent them exploring the town a little more.  I set out yesterday afternoon (at about 1:45, to ensure that I wouldn't get to the centre ville before 2 o' clock when everyone returns from lunch of course...), umbrella in hand, and it's a good thing!  I was absolutely drenched on the way back.  I usually take the exact same path every time I go into town, but I decided to explore a little yesterday, and turned down streets I'd never been down before.  And I was rewarded with some wonderful little gems of Sens, which I'm sure many people don't realize are there.  As I got farther away from my original route, the streets got narrower, and  the roofs closer together.  One thing that always makes me smile about the French is their tendency to paint their doors bright colors, and yesterday, I was not disappointed.  Lining the streets were green, red, and dark blue wooden doors, paint flaking off, with large brass or gold doorknobs.  I came to a cross street and looked up at a magnificent house that must have been there since the beginning of the 1900s- it was a white creamish color with strong dark wooden beams going every which way- it reminded me a lot of the Strasbourg/Alsace architecture style.  I entertained myself imagining the inside, a bustling wooden stove in the center of a family room with worn couches, colorful red curtains, and perhaps an old man sitting on a stool making a pair of shoes.  It was probably exactly the opposite, a student residence with wifi and ikea furniture, but that's the wonderful thing about daydreams, reality doesn't really matter!

Another thing I love about France, the papeteries.  This is a wonderful invention by the French, something that Americans should really seize and expand on.  Imagine things you could find everyday at OfficeMax, but better, smaller, and more fun to get lost in.  Every kind of notebook you could ever want, blank paper, lined paper, boxed paper, spiral bound, loose leaf, folded and connected pages, post its, every size ruler you could imagine, envelopes, folders, binders, pens (don't get me started on the pens- felt tip, ball point, fountain).  I spent a considerable time in a great papeterie I found yesterday, picking up each notebook and flipping through it, only to emerge with a folder, one little block of post its, and two pens.  But it was well worth it!

And the other wonderful thing I got to experience this week was the typical French dinner.  And you know it's typical when you get to the restaurant at 7:15 and don't leave until 11:30.  Or when you eat more courses than the number of hours you stay there.  Or when a whole three tiered rolling tray comes out in between courses, containing ONLY cheese (with more selection than the dessert tray, although i guess that's to be expected in this country).  I was nearly full after the appetizer, a tomato and olive salad with a little filet of tuna and some tiny sprigs of lettuce.  By on came the main course, 'poulet en surprise' cleverly named because it was a filet of chicken wrapped in a little chimichanga-style case, with a creamy mushroom sauce.  And, because there's obviously never an excuse good enough to turn down cheese in France, the waiter sliced three types of cheese onto my plate for me to try.  All smelly, all unfamiliar, all delicious.  And as if that weren't enough, dessert was next.  I thought I was going to burst, but everyone at the table was insistent that I try the 'moelleux au chocolat avec la crème anglaise'.  In other words, a cake better than any brownie you've ever tasted, smothered in vanilla sauce better than you've ever tried.  And with that, I think I won't have to eat for the next couple days... whew.  I'm full just writing about it. 

Even though we just started, our first vacation is already on the horizon, starting next Friday.  Plans are still in the preliminary stages, but together with a couple other students from Sens, and one lovely Lindsay Poulin working in Nevers, we're going to take Burgundy by storm!  Ok, by car, not by storm.  We thought the best way to start our stay in France would be to experience what our wonderful region has to offer- quaint towns, towering cathedrals, rolling vineyards, brightly colored antique houses.  And for the second week, I'll be getting my first taste of Germany, flying up to Berlin to explore and visit some friends from Redlands.  

Hope everyone enjoys the weekend!  I'll be in Dijon, going through my medical appointment for my residency card, 'carte de sejour'.  This will probably be the only part of the French system I won't complain about, since I get to spend the weekend with friends in the city of mustard :)  

Bon weekend à tous!!

"Eeets a joke!"

Lesson #1 :

 

You have not truly taught a language until you have tried to explain a joke to students who don't understand that language. 

Lesson #2 :

Hand gestures as well as using dry erase board markers to circle, dot, underline, and draw boxes around words and images in a comic strip can actually go a long way.  Unless your scribbles (attempts to explain) actually end up overpowering the comic itself....

Enter said comic strip.

Har-de-har right? Might have to zoom in on it a bit, sorry about that.  Sure, I guess it could be funny, in a small sort of tiny smile out of the corner of your mouth type of way.  But, crois-moi (believe me), after you spend 15 minutes explaining the vocabulary, characters, and irony of a certain chicken bone in a certain character's mouth, well, it just doesn't have QUITE the same effect.  Don't even get me started on the Colonel Sanders part, I didn't even try to explain who he was.  At least they knew what KFC was (thank you globalization). 

The thing is, when the teacher told me last week that the students were studying humor, and could I please find some comic strips or something, I didn't really think it would be too tough.  I guess the first clue came after searching through 10 years of Baby Blues archives, trying to find something with minimal and simple vocabulary, that I realized it was gonna be a tad bit tougher than expected.  And this afternoon when I was standing in front of 5 students with absolutely blank stares, it was confirmed.  Jokes are for the fluent.  If anything, they now have a joyfully expanded fast-food centralized vocab :)

Among other memorable moments today, while talking with 2 girls about immigration to the U.S., I asked them to think of some reasons why people would immigrate to the U.S.  One of the girls' mother is Polish, and immigrated to France, so you know,  I expected some a personal answer.  But alas, a thick french accent answered me, "May-beee zhey would-uh immeegrate to ze United Stetes to zee Brad Peet".  My thoughts chèrie, parfait.  

Lesson #3 : Always read and verify that you know exact definition and examples for every single word in an article before you give it to a group of 20 year old boys.  Because when you give them an article from Associated Press about global warming and green jobs, you'd better be prepared for them to ask what 'biomass' means.  Because, oh, they will ask.  And you will have to answer them, using of course, english they can understand.  When you have figured out how to do that, please let me in on that little secret.  

Even after a full week of classes, I still have classes in my schedule that I haven't been to yet, 3 of which will be tomorrow.  When I got my new revised schedule in an email this weekend, I was pleasantly surprised at my luck of having an 8 am class with the first year students.  I kindly thanked Sonia, my boss, for that lovely addition this morning around the machine du café.  Despite the hellish hour, however, I could not have been placed with a better teacher I think.  Her name is Jeane, and she's just a ball full of energy.  I saw her in the hallway today and she came walking/jogging towards me, beaming.  She told me we'll have class tomorrow, and she has NO idea what she has planned yet, but we'll just figure it out.  She has frizzy dark hair that has definitely been dyed a bright shade of red at some moment in time, and she was wearing an incredibly bright long sweater.  Her frazzled-ness and enthusiasm is somehow comforting though, and I'm excited to see how it is tomorrow morning.  Even if it is at an obscene hour (I think all schools should start at 9 personally).  

I'm beginning to realize more and more too, that Sabrina and I really 'ont de la chance' (are lucky) for the staff we're surrounded by.  They're so welcoming- every time I see a teacher in the hall, they smile and ask how I am, how I'm adjusting, how my weekend was, etc.  And they're even taking us out to dinner on Thursday night!  The other girls here have various troubles with their teachers- the German assistant has professors that tell her what they want her to do at the very last minute, and others don't give her ANY direction at all.  All they say is they're glad she's here, so that essentially, someone else can teach the kids German.  And the British girl that's teaching at a couple primary schools around here, well she doesn't have anyone at all telling her what to do- the primary teachers don't even speak English!  The more I learn about the system over here, the more interesting it becomes....

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Getting the Sens of things...

I think if all I wrote in this blog were the questions that I got asked everyday, I think it would be more than enough material to keep you all entertained.  Today I had two new classes, and thus two new batches of questions from my eager little (or same-aged) english students.  And with each question they ask, it's a bit easier for me to realize the cultural difference between here and there.  

I have two classes with one teacher named Edith, who is very, very nice.  In each class, however, she's asked me very specific (and a tad controversial in American standards) questions.  For example, in our first class, I came into the room about 5 minutes early and she explained to me a little what they were doing in class, what I should expect, and what I could maybe talk about.  Well, turns out they were talking about immigration.  Ok, easy part, I told them a little bit about the roots of my family, how they came over from Ireland and Germany years ago to America.  Ok, hard part, she asked me in the middle of the class to talk about the wall that might be/(is being?) built between California and Mexico.  Enter the sweating and brainstorming.  How do I explain to a classroom full of French students about this supposed wall... The first problem was of course finding English terms they would understand.   Second of all, how am I supposed to present it?  Neutrally? Passionately for or against?  Am I passionately for or against?  All this is  a matter of seconds before I blurted out something along the lines of, "Well yes, there are some Americans that support a wall between Mexico and the United States so that people can't cross illegally from one country to the other".  I also answer to Queen of Vagueness.  

And, just to keep up with her knack of intriguing subjects, Edith told me this morning before class that they were talking about Gun Control, and could I maybe say a few words on the subject of arms in the U.S....?  oh la.  Thankfully, that one didn't pan out in the class (at least not yet).  They were too interested asking me if I was going to vote for Obama.  Oh, and I new one today, Why I didn't like France.  I guess I could have steered them to this blog for a more in depth look at why sometimes French people m'ennervent (annoy me), but it was enough to mention their love of strikes and long lunches and short shop hours.  

The second class that I had today was full of strapping young boys that are in the BTS program, which is effectively after highschool, and all of them have already had work experience.  I could write an entry alon

g on the teacher, Gilles.  He's got his work cut out for him, if not for the reason that he has a class full of 20 year old rowdy boys, than because he's the only guy in a group of 13 women english teachers.  Gilles is tall and maybe a bit lanky.  I always see him in suits, with his wire rimmed round glasses and 

silver bracelet with 'Gilles' engraved on it.  I've actually only heard speak a couple of French words, since he always insists on speaking English to me.  That is absolutely great that he's expanding his English, but the questions and topics he wants to discuss are, how to say, très specifique?  Like for example, when we were walking out of the cantine yesterday after lunch, when he asked me about how the speculative market works exactly...... I know I would have trouble explaining that in either French or English.  He always has the air

 about him that he's far away, thinking in maybe 4 languages at once.  And this may sound weird, but I think his hair completely embodies his personality.  It's blondish brown and he has this tuft at the top that kind of 

just floats there in the middle of the air, fluffing everywhere as he talks and walks about in the classroom, throwing his arms up now and again to exclaim something about mechanical engineering, or replacing a motherboard (did I mention the BTS classes are very technology-oriented?).  I just hope I don't have to explain computer programming or hedge funds.  In French or English come to think of it....

And as a small side note, and to add to the list of interesting comments or questions, I was told today for the first time (EVER) that my American accent was... awesome... just like on tv and in the movies actually.  For any of you that understand the French culture a little bit better, this was said by a 20 year old guy with that certain French shake of the hand like they're trying to shake water off.  Maybe that doesn't make perfect sense, but if you get it, well, you get it. :)  I guess that's the same thing we would say to a French person speaking English in the states, but it's just funny to hear about your own accent in your maternal language.  

Apart from all things school related, I've taken a few pictures to share with you all.  This is the view from my windows, looking out the right towards 

the lycée campus.  It really is that close.  The building I spend all of my time in is the one right after this one.  The smaller building you see on the left is a very small part of the student housing here.  There are actually a lot of students who board here during the week and take buses or trains to their own cities on the weekends.  

 This is a picture of my room, petite as it is, it's getting cozier.

  

Next is a view from our bathroom window, which looks our on the street side rather than the campus side.

  There's a big open field and tons of wonderfully autumn colored trees lining the street.  In the very left-

hand corner, you can see part of the 'stade' (stadium) where I go to run, all the while looking at the pretty trees

 :)  

This is just another view of the same lovely orange and red leaves. 

And this, of course, is my wonderful new cell phone, picture published upon request! (sorry, can't figure out how to rotate it...)

 

patience is a...french...virtue

Honestly. I must have been long overdue for a lesson in patience, because that is exactly what I've been getting this past week and a half since I've been to France.  But alas, there is finally a reward.  I am again, as I would like to say in french, 'branchée', connected again to the world!  And, as some sort of double (triple?) reward, I got my cellphone, internet and unlimited phone access all in the same afternoon.  Quelle chance!

Just so you all can share in some of my weekly lessons in patience, I'll share a couple of stories to give some examples.  I'm doing this for you.

Example A:  Crédit Mutuelle, the French Bank.

Last Tuesday, as in 10 days ago, I started a French bank account, with really no problems whatsoever.  My boss, effectively, has been so helpful getting us all settled here, and took  me and the other American assistant with her to the bank to start up our accounts.  It was an absolutely smooth process, and the lady there even got us some discounts, so we really are getting a good deal.  When you start the checking account, it comes with a 'Carte Bleue', a Visa card.  When the lady asked me would you like to put any money into the account to start off with, I kind of laughed thinking about the meager contents of my wallet, and said no, figuring I would just put money into it later when I got a chance the next week.  Slip of paper would arrive soon in the mail, telling me I could come pick up my card.  Ok, pas de problème, no problem.  

Example B, which is thereby linked to Example A: The French Telephone Store. 

So, after the compulsory bank account was set up, I headed to the cell phone store a couple days later to get my french cell phone up and running (this is after, by the way,  I realized the mysterious disappearance of the SIM card in my existing French cell phone. Frustrating, but turned out to be unimportant).  SO I pick out the plan I want, from the advice of a past language assistant, and get all ready to pick out my new phone, etc, and the guy at the counter says,  matter of factly, 'well, you need certain papers to start your account'.  Oh contraire mon ami, I was prepared.  'Valid form of ID?' he asked me 'Oui' I replied.  'RIB (french term for little piece of paper with your bank account number)?' he asked me 'Oui' I replied. 'Carte Bleue?' My stomach dropped.  The absence of that little french credit card was now all that was separating me from that cute little red cell phone.  'En fait (In fact)' I started to explain to him, 'I just started in the account, and am still waiting for the card...' long pause.  And then, as so many French people just LOVE to do, he told me I didn't have everything I needed, that I needed to wait, washing his hands of my problem for the time being.  

Example C, which ties all three Examples together. The second visit to the bank.

If I'm learning one very important thing here, it's knowing what questions to ask.  Because, as I have learned, if you don't ask the right questions, you don't get the right answers.  Even if those answers are very, very important.  Like the fact that I could have been waiting for my bank card (patiently of course) to come in the mail until the end of October.  See, my first paycheck arrives at the end of October, and the lady at the bank, because I didn't explicitly ask of course, didn't tell me that I couldn't have my bank card until there was money in the account.  So, it's a very good thing I showed up at the bank and told them I needed my card, for all the reasons listed in Examples A and B.  And insisted that she take my 200 euros I'd just taken from my American account and deposit them at once in my French account so that I could take the card to the telephone store.  After the deposit, the lady told me that actually (actually) I still couldn't use my card until a little secret pin number came in the mail 2-4 days later, allowing me to purchase stuff with the card.  Does nobody need access to money around here or something?

So, after I exasperated-ly left the bank, finally with my card but sans code, I ran myself right over to the telephone store, where I got JUST as far as I did the last time- I even had the cute little red phone in my hands this time- when it was yanked all away again.  I went through the same questions, except in reverse this time.  'Carte Bleue?' 'Oui'. 'RIB?' 'Oui'. 'Forme d'identité?' Oui.  Which is precisely where it stopped.  Even though, as the salesman put it, my American passport was cooler looking than any French passport, he couldn't for some reason accept it as a valid form of identification..... Excuse me? It's a fricken passport.  You can't really get any more official than that.  But oh, he was worried that I was going to leave the country suddenly, leaving my cell phone account with it.  I tried oh so earnestly to explain to him that I had an address for my bank account, I was working at the highschool, I am LIVING in France, but he couldn't budge.  Told me I should go to the Mayor's Office and ask for an officially signed paper that says I'm staying here.  I wanted to step back and ask"Would you listen to what you're saying Monsieur?  You're telling me that you actually think a French mayor's office is going to take the time to notarize a letter for a 22 year old language assistant, saying that she has an address in France just so she can take that letter to the cell phone store down the street?  Oh-k."  But, I held my tongue and left the store, sans telephone. 

And I patiently returned one more time to the store this afternoon, with a much better outcome.  There was a new guy there (which actually turned out to be the FIRST guy I talked to there), who kind of looked at me strangely when I lugged a huge folder out of my purse, with every single official document I came here with, and have received since arrival.  All of them state in one form or another, that I'm working here, that I have a contract, lodging, and a bank account, etc... And he scoffed when I told him that his colleague told me I needed to go the Mayors office (which, did I mention, was closed when I went the day before? It would be).  'Pas de problème' He told me, but I was skeptical.  And continued to be skeptical, until I walked out of the store an hour later with my cute little phone.  Which WORKS, yep, tested and proven.  

Conclusion, from Examples A-C :  If you find yourself at a bank or cell phone store in France, you are now all fully prepped on the questions to ask, materials to have with you, and insistence with which you must arm yourselves.  And, maybe you'll even be able to pick up on things that are obviously not true, like trying to bother the Mayor to sign a paper so I could buy a phone.  Although, I think it will take me, myself, years to master that filtering-out talent.  

More to come about all the students and class stories!  Two more classes tomorrow, I'm sure there will be plenty of new nosy and interesting questions.  Maybe I should just frame my introduction in a way that will leave them without any other questions.  "Hello my name is Alli, I live in Utah, I'm not Mormon, No I don't prefer French men over American men,  No I will not speak French with you only English, Yes there is a financial problem in the US right now, No, I've never seen any famous people in the streets, and No I don't know who i'm voting for yet."  That would seem to cover all the bases... :)

A bientôt,

alli

In the beginning...

Salut à toutes et à tous!

First of all, I’ll do the compulsory introduction of course, explain exactly what this blog is!
I decided in January of this past school year, to apply for a position as an English assistant in France for a year. I can’t believe it was really that long ago that I started thinking about coming here. I enjoyed my year abroad in Nantes and Paris, at times more than words can describe, and decided that France was definitely where I wanted to spend the next couple months of my life. So, to just shorten all the rest of the story, after much waiting, and tons of administrative stuff that I’m still really in the throes of, here I am in a little town called Sens!
Sens is about an hour to the Southeast of Paris- incredibly convenient if you should ever want to hop on a train and spend a day there, which I absolutely took advantage of this Sunday with my fellow language assistants. It’s really an incredibly small little town here, about 30,000 people. The centre ville, the city center as they would say, is cute- you definitely get the impression you’re in a small town. There’s a street called La Grande Rue, which is closed to cars and dedicated solely to pedestrians, and you can find a little bit of everything there, the perfectly made nutella crèpe, a warm baguette just out of the oven, a lovely bouquet of flowers freshly cut, or maybe even a sewing machine, used pair of loafers, or parisienne gossip magazine of course. And even if you don’t set out with a specific goal, it’s a great place to just take it all in. Teenagers chewing gum and texting each other from across the street mix with older couples linked arm in arm strolling along, parents pushing their kids in strollers- it’s easy to feel at home, even if you’re a bit deceived by the supposed chaos.
At the center of any provincial city, you usually find a cathedral older than is imagineable. Sens is no exception, and can even boast about their cathedral more than most. It was the first gothic cathedral that was started in France (not finished or completed, just started. Hey, that’s something). The cathedral here gives me a different impression than many others I’ve visited. It almost emanates a vibe, inviting you to come in, without ultimatum, and without insistence even. I’ve only been in it once before, on a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon, and I was absolutely the only one. I don’t think there are many other times at all that I can say that. All the lights had been turned off, all pews cleared, all chairs arranged neatly. There was music playing in the background somewhere, and when it switched between songs, the only sound I could sense was the quiet and relaxed cathedral passing another day as usual, waiting for people to come in and go out as they always do. There is something I always appreciate about understated beauty like that.

One thing I wasn’t expecting as much (having lived in Paris for 4 months the last time I was in France, where you’re only about 17 steps away from a metro stop at all times) is how Sens is organized, and where I am in proximity to everything else. I had the absolute amazing luck of being offered free housing by the highschool, which I of course seized at once. That being the case, the highschool finds itself a lengthly distance outside of the town. A 30 minute brisk walk to centre ville, the nearest Laundromat, the grocery store, and the bank is a little more than is convenient, but I’m embracing it as an opportunity to get lots of exercise, if nothing else! And hopefully, a bike will soon find it’s way to my doorstep, which will make the 45 minute walk to the train station (uphill, both ways) a little more bearable. It’s really the only time I’ve found things this spread out in France, and found myself missing my little Ford Focus all bundled up in storage.

Now a little bit about the people here that will be part of my French life for the next couple months. I am living with 4 other girls, all language assistants from across Europe and the world actually. We represent 3 languages, 4 countries, and 3 continents in fact. There’s Sabrina, the other American from the San Diego/Los Angeles area (small world huh) who’s also teaching English at the highschool, Jenny, a British girl teaching at a couple primary schools in Sens, Julia, the German assistant, and Maria Pax, the Spanish assistant coming all the way from Chile! We make up an incredibly multicultural group, which is really most of the fun. Our dinners are usually spent swapping stories, discovering all the many differences and similarities between our cultures. And since the common language between us all is French, it’s all we speak at the house, which is something I really love. I have to say, last week before classes started, it was almost easier because all we were speaking was French. Now, I’m switching back and forth between English and French, which makes my brain feel a little fuzzy.

We all already have travel agendas longer than we are tall (that really is no change for me), and we’ll soon have the opportunity to start taking advantage of all there is to discover, close by and far away. Our first school break is October 25-November 6th, and even before that, I’ll be going to another close by city called Auxerre for another orientation day, and Dijon for a medical appointment for my residency card. I was annoyed at first that I would have to go all the way to Dijon just for a silly little doctors appointment, but when I realized it would be a perfect excuse to spend the weekend with one of my best friends, Lindsay Poulin who’s teaching in Nevers, I immediately stopped my complaining and started my mini-trip planning.

I’ll wait until the next post to share a little bit more about my students, but I think it will come soon, since there’s so much I want to share! To just give you a sneak peak, I’ve already been asked in every SINGLE class, if my boyfriend was sad that I was in France (a crafty way of figuring out the answer to another just as personal question), who is going to win the next election, if I liked Bush, the cowboy, and my favorite French actor. One gutsy 16 year old even ventured to ask me if he could have my cell phone number. Praise for speaking English, of course, but nice try. So that will have to be the next post, maybe after this week has finished and I’ve been able to see all the students I’ll have. And all the French-accented English I’ll get to decipher!

Hope everyone is doing well! I would love to hear from anyone and everyone, so if you have any time, write me a little note and let me know what’s going on in your lives too. And of course, if you have free vacation days, well I think I may be able to work around that too J

A bientôt,

alli