Well it has certainly been awhile ! I am very happy to report it is no longer as windy over here, a huge relief. I've been meaning to write for a good couple days now, but it seems everyone is exhausted around here and I think it's rubbed off. Although the week before vacation has never had a reputation for passing quickly, I started classes on Monday re-energized from a relaxing weekend (more to come!) and optimistic about my last classes before break. I quickly realized the week would be a bit tougher than expected.
Classes that usually give me no trouble, students who are usually energetic and ready to share, have been the opposite the past couple of days. I got the closest I've ever gotten to actually being angry and raising my voice in my BTS class on Monday afternoon. We were doing the same thing we do every single week- talking about an article/issue, exchanging ideas and debating a bit. But when it came time for the students to answer questions about the article we just read, no one would say a word. I even had to resort to calling on people to try and get something going, after having asked the question in 4 or 5 different ways. But the students I called on wouldn't budge. I finally threw up my hands and asked what is going on? Were they just tired this afternoon or something? Were they not interested? They told me the topic was hard to speak about in English, but they also weren't asking any vocabulary questions to help at least form parts of sentences. In the end, it was a pretty frustrating hour, and to be honest I was just as glad as they were when the bell finally rang.
My other classes this week weren't quite as bad as that one, but they've all been slightly slower than usual. I think I could draw a pretty accurate graph to display how the willingness to try decreases proportionally with the number of days left before vacation.
There is, however, a pretty significant light at the end of this tunnel.... vacation time!!! At 16h00 tomorrow afternoon, I will officially be heading to the train station for the first part of my vacances de printemps. I'll give you a slight sketch of my itinerary :
February 19-20th: Geneva
February 21-22: Lausanne
February 23: Bern
February 24-March 2: Salzburg, Austria
March 3-March 7: St. Malo, France (and around Bretagne)
My suitcase is ready to be zipped up, a stack of good books tucked inside. My ipod is charged and my journal is all set to record my adventures. Camera prête to take in the Swiss and Austrian countryside. It's been awhile since my last voyage, and I'm definitely excited to be on my way again.
Now I'll reverse a bit and recap the last part of la semaine dernière (last week). I found myself being initiated into the French culture in new (and sometimes pretty unexpected) ways. And humbling ones. After spending 9 months living in France while in college, and having another 4 1/2 under my belt this time, sometimes I find myself thinking I have it all figured out. Cue smack in the face. Or that ominous music in a scary movie that lets you know something big is coming up. Or banana peel in the middle of your bike path. Comme vous voulez, as you wish. Everyone knows, that every time a human being thinks they have something figured out, suddenly everything becomes blurry again.
I like to think that during a good week, about 90% of the time, I know what's going on around me French-wise. Conversations, tv shows, sometimes even the weather report with all the Celsius jumbled all over the map. Last week, there was one scenario that was thrown into the loop that I was completely unfamiliar with. Babysitting French tots. One of the English assistants that lives here babysits for a family that lives in our building on a fairly regular basis. Thursday she was supposed to babysit but had a few other things already scheduled, and so asked me if I could. I willingly agreed (after reading the afore detailed travel itinerary, it's evident that a little extra pocket money could not hurt) and skipped down the stairs at quarter to six. I knocked on the door and was greeted by a charming little 8 year old girl, who was actually a perfect angel the whole night. As will be explained, she was the key to many conversations. Soon following were the two older boys, 11 and 14. And last but not least, the little 2 year old boy scampered out of his bedroom and down the hallway to say hi to me too.
The three oldest kids were all fairly independent- they even explained most of everything to me before their mom walked in the door coming home from work. The mom told me they would take care of everything that night- they heated up dinner that was already cooked, got ready for bed on their own, stayed out of trouble. But, she admitted, the littlest one could be a little ornery sometimes. Possibly.
This was immediately evident when it came time later in the evening to get him to eat his lentils and rice. Or to try and convince him to attends, wait a few minutes and the bottle will cool down. And when he wouldn't take that as an answer, his brother willfully agreed to cool it down by running it under cold water. After which it was obviously too cold. Really? Ok, calme-toi, all it needs is 10 more seconds in the micro-onde. After which the response was, of course. It's too hot! This all preceded the realization that I needed to change his diaper. Pretty immediately. And after that, shower him. He's pretty much as fond as showers as he was of cold or boiling bottles, enough said. Somehow we got through it all though, and he was out like a light in under 10 minutes. God knows how.
And even though that last paragraph sounds a bit tiring, by far the hardest time I had the whole night was whenever the kid opened his mouth. I cannot describe to you how humbling it is to think you understand French, and have to ask an 8 year old to translate for you. Every time the little 2 year old would open his mouth I would perk up my ears. Ok. This is the time I'm gonna understand what he says. I just know I can do it. "Cokwid toosl t'upalekd?". I would stare at him blankly. Could he tell that I was concentrating harder than I did on my Global Business my senior year in college? "Cowius tuelsie t'alkide?!" He would insist. Uh, Sarah, I asked politely. What the heck is your kid brother trying to say to me. Without pulling her eyes away from the French dubbed episode of the Nanny (don't get me started) she said simply, he wants to know what your name is. Comment tu t'appelles apparently can also be phrased, cotkesli tudkeh t'alkirje. Just for future reference.
Or there was the time when Sarah and I were playing 'market' and 'restaurant'. I can attest, that although I tried not to let it get to me, self-esteem can drop a bit when you have to ask an 8 year old what the name of the vegetable is that you want to buy from her stand at the marché. Or when she looks at your spelling of maïs on the menu and says, why did you spell it like that?! Is it spelled differently where you live? Instead of trying to convince her that some people spell it with a z instead of an s, I admitted my fault and said nope, I'm just silly.
So, I had my butt linguistically kicked by kids a decade younger than me. Everyone needs a humbling Thursday night every now and then, hein?
Now onto something completely different from baby diapers and linguistically talented tots.
Another way in which I felt I was newly initiated into the culture over on this side of the Atlantic was my Saturday spent at le stade de France à Paris. I found myself with a ticket to the France-Scotland rugby match, teeth chattering, surrounded by a bunch of rowdy French fans and one English-undecided-Scottish-or-French-allegiance-fan, also known as one of the English assistants I live with. Even though the cheers being shouted around the stadium resembled more of 'allez!' rather than 'go!', the spirit and excitement was really the same as what you could expect State-side. Those are really the moments I have come to cherish, whether it be in France or any of the cultures I've visited across the globe. Even though we as people, cities, countries, communities, can be SO incredibly different, there are so many ways in which we are the same. And realizing that is beautiful. Even when if that realization comes in the most mundane way. i.e. 'the wave' traveling around the stadium, every fan taking their turn standing up, raising their arms in the air like a wave and shouting, oh!! Only in France, we shout 'Oh la'. Oh France.
So now I head away from France for awhile. Excited to get away, but I'm sure excited to come back as well. I'll try to post a couple times throughout les vacances, and keep you updated on what I'm up to. Until then, à la prochain!
alli
1 comment:
Have a good trip
Regardez loin devant vous
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