- A chequebook
- An appointment to sign for my flat on Thursday morning (and move in in the afternoon)
- A French mobile phone contract - email me if you want the number
- An appointment to get internet/TV/phoneline in my new flat as soon as possible - i.e. a minimum of 3 weeks' time. Not really looking forward to the Toussaint holidays all alone in my boring flat next week - thank goodness my parents are coming to visit!
Still no bank card unfortunately - it's at the bank but I'm not allowed to have it because my account isn't "validated" yet. However, I'm starting to get used to French admin and frankly this is a historic and hard won victory, so I'll take it. What I've found fascinating is the power of being French in these situations - I went around asking for all of these things this morning on my own, and was given an enormous number of hoops to jump through, and estimated arrival times far longer (apparently the earliest the estate agent could possibly manage for my apartment was Wednesday next week...). However, when I went back with Julie in the afternoon, suddenly all the waiting times mysteriously halved. Not that I'm complaining.
Anyway, rewind back to the last time I wrote. We spent the rest of that weekend at Pierre's parents' house and I got to go along to the Parti Socialiste's primaries with the whole family. Funnily enough they wouldn't let me vote though... But it's interesting to see this potentially important year in French political history playing out first hand, and I'm glad I'm going to be here for the présidentielles.
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| My pride and joy |
On Monday I was back at school and, for the first time, with teachers other than Julie - scary! Also had the extremely exciting step of getting my very own pigeon hole, with my name and job title written on it! (In felt pen...) Actually, it had been there for 2 weeks, and had had a summons to see the headmistress waiting inside it since the 7th October, but better late than never, eh? On Tuesday I finally gave up the search for a private landlord, and went for a little tour of Montargis' estate agents, accepting the €300+ agents fees as a price worth paying not to be scammed (again). I got lucky and saw a reasonably priced, brilliantly located and, (most importantly) furnished studio flat the very same afternoon. That would be the same one I'm moving into this Thursday! On my various travels around town I also saw some evidence of a grève that was taking place that day (what are the chances!?), apparently for all professions except teachers. It was unclear what the goal of the grève was, but this is one stereotype of the French that is definitely true.
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| Cheeky grève. |
Here are some pictures I took of the Lycée I'm working at to give you an idea of its monumental size! (click on them to see them larger)
On Friday I had another 'stage' in Orléans, this time to tell us how to actually do our jobs. Two weeks after we'd already started them - cheers. It was mostly full of "exciting" ice-breaking games, so in short, my idea of a day from hell. Even so, this time it was in a smaller group - only anglophone assistants from the Loiret département, meaning that both geographically and linguistically speaking we were better placed to make friends. With that in mind we all went for a bonding lunch at "Quick" (the French equivalent of McDonald's I'm told, though they seem to have plenty of those too...) and afterwards a few of us went to have a drink in the main square of Orléans, and I got to indulge my French addiction to sirop d'Orgeat (which you CAN find in the North too Manon, and I have a bottle to prove it!) and, er, Belgian beer.
Julie and Pierre were away house-hunting for the weekend (you can tell you're outstaying your welcome when even your hosts are trying to move out) so I'd arranged to stay with Pierre's brother Paul who helpfully lives in Orléans. And when I stay "stay with", I mean he lent me his flat for the weekend and went to stay with a friend next door. Bless. On Saturday we went to Paris with some of his friends, one of whom was a German and didn't speak much French. Not all of the French boys spoke much English, so I ended up getting in a big language-y mess switching between the two, and by the end of the day it had evolved into a particularly incomprehensible brand of franglais, mixed with "Zidane". We had a really lovely day though, and managed to see a fair bit of Paris (mostly down to Mouss's crazy Parisian-style driving): Voici quelques photos:
Sunday was equally idyllic, with the best weather autumn has to offer, lunch outside and a quick trip to see the tigers in the circus (as you do). Also Paul let me drive his car, and I remembered to stay on the right! Even managed 3 roundabouts, despite my specific instruction to choose a route which didn't include any. So going back to school on Monday was a bit of a shock to the system - especially since I forgot almost everything (including my timetable and register!) and had to teach my very first lessons all by myself! These didn't go too badly considering they fell on two of the least talkative classes I have - and I did at least have a good laugh when in a restaurant role play they translated "croque monsieur" quite literally as "crunchy mister" - but I was absolutely knackered when I got home.
Just a brief final note then: one consequence of my 3 week wait to get hold of internet, combined with the closure of the Lycée over the Toussaint holiday (back to school Thursday 3rd November), is that I might be rather less easily contactable than usual, and almost certainly won't be blogging. I will update as soon as I can with pictures of my new home!
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