Saturday, 19 November 2011
Thursday, 17 November 2011
Onze Onze Onze Onze Onze Onze
Well the bad news is, even after last week's teaser, I am still lacking a latin lothario. Also the first lesson went entirely without incident, and the weather is still unseasonably warm, so that's a bit of a let-down, sorry!
But other things have happened, so let's briefly rewind to where I left off last week. Friday was (as we all know) remembrance day, which the French see as a jolly good excuse to take the whole day off. Not only that, but in France the 11th November is strictly only for remembering the First World War - WW2 gets its own individual day (and bank holiday, naturally) in May. Other wars... meh, apparently. Not that any of my students actually seemed to know the meaning of the day when I asked them... But I'm certainly not complaining about the French workshy attitude - it meant I got to avoid working on Friday yet again, and that I could celebrate 11/11/11 11:11:11am (aka. corduroy day) by sleeping through it. I have also come to the startling realisation that this means that, despite having been here for a month and a half now, tomorrow will only be my second full-day Friday. Naturally I'm outraged - couldn't someone have come up with some kind of holiday? I could use a long weekend... maybe I'll just go on strike.
In aid of the long weekend, on Friday afternoon Emily came to visit me from Paris (which was jolly charitable of her). We had dinner at Courtepaille (which despite meaning "short straw" is a grill restaurant, not a punishment), and then we were probably the last people in the whole of France to see the immensely popular "Bienvenue à Bord" which was hilarious. We also learned the valuable lesson NEVER to go to the cinema on a "jour férié" again, as apparently 90% of the population of Montargis had had the same idea, and 90% of the staff were enjoying their day off at home. This, coupled with the French's rather "different" attitude to queueing from our own beloved British reverence, meant that getting into the cinema was complete chaos, and I'm actually rather surprised we made it in the end.(Also no student discounts on bank holidays! Outrageous!)
On Saturday, Emily, Christina and I went for a little jaunt to Orléans, mostly in the interests of shopping. I bought some glittery London stickers to decorate my class books and register, which have been a massive hit with the students (and with me!) We kind of forgot about lunch until it was a bit late and all the restaurants were already closed, so we settled for paninis and crèpes served by a ten year-old on the Rue de Bourgogne. This was followed by a moderately paced jog for our respective buses and trains home, taking in the traditional French music on the way... oh no wait - bagpipes.
On Sunday, Christina and I met up at the Blue Mountain Café - one of the prettiest spots in Montargis, which is now becoming a regular haunt - for a cheeky German lesson. It was a bit of a strange experience as it made me realise just how much German has been sacrificed for French space in my head, and the whole situation was made all the more bizarre by the fact the lesson itself was in French. But even if it's frustrating, the fact that I've learnt it all once before does at least make it come back quicker. I'll try to keep at it. Afterwards we went for a little walk by the lake to try to regain our sanity - the weather is holding for the moment, and Montargis may lack many things, but the opportunity for beautiful lakeside walks is not one of them.
This week I've given up almost entirely on my "real teacher" pretence, and spent my lessons playing such classic games as "Stop the Bus" (for its unrivaled vocabulary-building traits, of course) and "Taboo". The latter may have been a bit of a mistake, I admit, as asking my students to describe the word tree without using the words green, leaf or plant came up against a rather large hurdle when it turned out they didn't understand the word tree. Brilliant. Next week, 20 questions, and the celebrity game.
Socially things have been looking up too, and now Sara has moved into the same building as Clément (and his sometime squatter Mus) I've been spending most of my evenings there perpetuating British drinking stereotypes and learning filthy French slang. I hope you're all proud. In any case, that's all from me for now, and, as promised Ed:
You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl.
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| Given that 11/11 was férié this cartoon makes no sense. |
In aid of the long weekend, on Friday afternoon Emily came to visit me from Paris (which was jolly charitable of her). We had dinner at Courtepaille (which despite meaning "short straw" is a grill restaurant, not a punishment), and then we were probably the last people in the whole of France to see the immensely popular "Bienvenue à Bord" which was hilarious. We also learned the valuable lesson NEVER to go to the cinema on a "jour férié" again, as apparently 90% of the population of Montargis had had the same idea, and 90% of the staff were enjoying their day off at home. This, coupled with the French's rather "different" attitude to queueing from our own beloved British reverence, meant that getting into the cinema was complete chaos, and I'm actually rather surprised we made it in the end.(Also no student discounts on bank holidays! Outrageous!)
On Saturday, Emily, Christina and I went for a little jaunt to Orléans, mostly in the interests of shopping. I bought some glittery London stickers to decorate my class books and register, which have been a massive hit with the students (and with me!) We kind of forgot about lunch until it was a bit late and all the restaurants were already closed, so we settled for paninis and crèpes served by a ten year-old on the Rue de Bourgogne. This was followed by a moderately paced jog for our respective buses and trains home, taking in the traditional French music on the way... oh no wait - bagpipes.
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| The last paragraph was brought to you by "Preparing Lessons in front of the Sound of Music" |
You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl.
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
V for Visitors (and Vendetta)
So firstly I would like to reassure you all that I am still alive, simply rather busy, which explains my recent virtual silence. I would also like to extend my most humble apologies to those of you who have been waiting for the latest instalment with bated breath (as I'm sure some of you must have been!) alors, le voilà finalement.
After relapsing to my hermit-like lifestyle for the Wednesday, on Thursday I made another trip to Paris to meet my parents who had arrived the night before. It was lovely to see some familiar faces after a rather lonely week, and I was thoroughly indulged (at least for the first 24 hours!) One slightly scary realisation though was that my level of French has now passed that of my linguistically gifted father, and it was a slightly odd role-reversal that for the first time ever my parents were looking to me to order in restaurants and buy tickets. Possibly even more horrifyingly, I managed to correct my father on a conjugation (and be right) not once but twice!
The next day my parents were lucky enough to experience the Grand Tour of Montargis, including the magnificent Mazet praline shop and some unknown-but-certainly-significant proportion of its 130 bridges. They also got to experience the benefits office and the mobile shop while I took care of some administration - lucky them. Unfortunately, given Montargis' diminutive size, the "Grand Tour" lasted only a pitiful two hours even with its bureaucratic sideshow, so we went to see Tintin - that great francophone masterpiece - dubbed into French.
Then I showed them the Lycée, giving mother ample opportunity to take awkward photographs of me pointing at signs. Quel bonheur.
Anyway, that took me up till Monday, but the French (being a rather work-shy bunch) had no intention of going back to work till at least the Thursday... So I went on another little jaunt to Paris, this time to visit my school friend and fellow assistant Emily, and shamelessly tag along with the plans she'd made with her other much more legitimately Parisian friends. Inevitably it rained, as they say in French, "like a pissing cow" (such a beautiful language) so we spent an embarrassingly large proportion of the afternoon in Starbucks drinking tea (feel like I'm really getting a hold on French culture here!) We then ventured into an electronics shop, where Emily and I entertained ourselves for at least an hour with a children's touch screen computer - or more specifically, with its electronic parrot who repeated whatever you said, twice, at a slightly higher pitch. Capital of culture indeed. We managed to raise the tone by stopping at Notre Dame on the walk back to Emily's house for a grainy night-time photo shoot, and then staying up talking about philosophy until 4am.
This seemed like a good idea until we had to get up to leave the house at 9ish - so when Emily asked me, as I was drying my still rain-soaked shoes with a hair drier, what I fancied doing with the morning, my answer was simple: coffee. Fortunately, being Paris, even this can be turned into a shameful photo opportunity - so we went to the Café where Amélie worked in that imaginatively named film "Amélie" for espresso and...Crème Brûlée. Standard mid-morning snack. Unfortunately, Emily managed to shatter a glass all over the restaurant, so we bolted pretty sharpish. Glad we took photos as we'll certainly think twice about showing our faces in there again.
Since Thursday I've been back at school "working" (hah). I ended up giving most of my lessons last week about Guy Fawkes night, which was pretty fun with my more enthusiastic classes - especially explaining what it means to be "hanged, drawn and quartered" with little diagrams on the board (and seeing the confused faces of the next teacher to use the classroom when I forgot to rub those diagrams off!) With my 2nde Euro class we even made a Guy - but I think we were all as unimpressed as each other with how he turned out. Talking about it all the time did make me a little sad that I was missing out on all the fireworks in England though, so on Saturday Christina, Sara and I watched V for Vendetta (or, more precisely V pour Vendetta) in French to mark the occasion.
Sorry for the bumper edition this time - didn't think I had very much to write but I guess I was wrong - I've even had to leave a fair bit out, so exciting has my social life become(!) Also apologies for the slightly self-indulgent pity bit at the beginning - I'm starting to feel better already but wanted to have an honest account of the year abroad experience. So don't worry about me!
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| Definitely alive |
Life in Montargis has been carrying on calmly as ever - rather too calmly perhaps, and I admit I have had a few low moments in the last few weeks when the energy of student life and the constant buzz of London have felt all too absent... But not to worry, I was warned that the beginning would be difficult (I think of my three-week jaunt chez Julie as a reprieve from the real beginning as I didn't really have a chance to feel lonely) and I reckon it can only get better from here.
The beginning of the Toussaint holidays was probably the hardest few days as most of the other assistants had gone home (or to other exciting places) for the week, so there wasn't much going on. In retrospect, I probably should have made some exciting plans of my own, but I didn't really think it through. In any case, I made the most of the opportunity to get far too much sleep, watch the entire back catalogue of Misfits, and decorate my fridge:
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| My chef d'oeuvre |
After a few days of being a recluse, on the Tuesday I met the German assistant Christina and her friend Sandra in Orléans, which was a welcome break from the now all too familiar sights of Montargis. We spent the afternoon drinking coffee, window shopping, and having a crazy old man tell us the history of the Cathedral in very fast French. I think I learnt a lot, but it's hard to tell how much is factually accurate and how much is embellished from the gaps left by my brain's inability to keep up. So don't ask me for a tour. It also stopped raining for just long enough for me to take one shamefully misleading photograph of the Cathedral surrounded by crystal-clear blue skies. All in all, it couldn't have gone much better.
After relapsing to my hermit-like lifestyle for the Wednesday, on Thursday I made another trip to Paris to meet my parents who had arrived the night before. It was lovely to see some familiar faces after a rather lonely week, and I was thoroughly indulged (at least for the first 24 hours!) One slightly scary realisation though was that my level of French has now passed that of my linguistically gifted father, and it was a slightly odd role-reversal that for the first time ever my parents were looking to me to order in restaurants and buy tickets. Possibly even more horrifyingly, I managed to correct my father on a conjugation (and be right) not once but twice! 
The next day my parents were lucky enough to experience the Grand Tour of Montargis, including the magnificent Mazet praline shop and some unknown-but-certainly-significant proportion of its 130 bridges. They also got to experience the benefits office and the mobile shop while I took care of some administration - lucky them. Unfortunately, given Montargis' diminutive size, the "Grand Tour" lasted only a pitiful two hours even with its bureaucratic sideshow, so we went to see Tintin - that great francophone masterpiece - dubbed into French.
Having thus exhausted the delights of Montargis, Saturday found my mother and I back in Paris, Dad having elected to stay in his hotel room and read a book, much to his excitement. Thus Mum got to indulge her passion for taking woefully unflattering photographs of me with historic monuments in the background:
And I got to indulge my passion for Ladurée macaroons:
But I think the happiest person of all was Dad, because on our return every restaurant in Montargis was either closed or full. The sole exception (if you can call it a restaurant) was Quick, meaning he got to indulge his passion for dirt cheap processed meat, and cheese with high plastic content. So everyone was happy.
Before my parents left on the Sunday we went for a little walk by the Canal which was actually rather lovely. Cue this small advertising space for the Montargis Tourist board:
Then I showed them the Lycée, giving mother ample opportunity to take awkward photographs of me pointing at signs. Quel bonheur.
Even so, after they left I was worried that the lonely would come back with a vengeance, so I quickly availed myself of the best modern technology has to offer, and scheduled Skype dates with my uni friends, my brother and Rhi, all of whom cheered me up no end by wearing silly outfits, making silly faces, and improvising reflective devices so I could watch myself watching myself watching a video on their computer screen... or something. So thanks guys.
Anyway, that took me up till Monday, but the French (being a rather work-shy bunch) had no intention of going back to work till at least the Thursday... So I went on another little jaunt to Paris, this time to visit my school friend and fellow assistant Emily, and shamelessly tag along with the plans she'd made with her other much more legitimately Parisian friends. Inevitably it rained, as they say in French, "like a pissing cow" (such a beautiful language) so we spent an embarrassingly large proportion of the afternoon in Starbucks drinking tea (feel like I'm really getting a hold on French culture here!) We then ventured into an electronics shop, where Emily and I entertained ourselves for at least an hour with a children's touch screen computer - or more specifically, with its electronic parrot who repeated whatever you said, twice, at a slightly higher pitch. Capital of culture indeed. We managed to raise the tone by stopping at Notre Dame on the walk back to Emily's house for a grainy night-time photo shoot, and then staying up talking about philosophy until 4am. 
This seemed like a good idea until we had to get up to leave the house at 9ish - so when Emily asked me, as I was drying my still rain-soaked shoes with a hair drier, what I fancied doing with the morning, my answer was simple: coffee. Fortunately, being Paris, even this can be turned into a shameful photo opportunity - so we went to the Café where Amélie worked in that imaginatively named film "Amélie" for espresso and...Crème Brûlée. Standard mid-morning snack. Unfortunately, Emily managed to shatter a glass all over the restaurant, so we bolted pretty sharpish. Glad we took photos as we'll certainly think twice about showing our faces in there again.
We spent the rest of the afternoon guessing people's nationalities on the steps of the Sacré Coeur, trying to distinguish the pronunciation of "coeur/cours/corps" on a packed metro, and drinking "demi-pêches" by the Gare de Lyon because I had missed my train. When, eventually, I did manage board a train (having coordinated my and the SNCF's competing timetables), I got a call from the Spanish assistant Sara - her flat was full of fleas, could I possibly put her up for the night?
So "the night" at some point became "the week", and in fact she's just left to go and stay with her boyfriend for "the weekend" (it's France, the weekend starts whenever you like) before moving into her new flat on Sunday. Annoyingly, this flat just happens to be the same flat I was raving about on my first blog post in Montargis, that was so cruelly snapped up before I called. But then again, I didn't have to live in a flea-infested flat for 2 weeks either, so I'm not going to complain too much about Sara's good fortune. In any case it's been nice to have the company, and she's been a very lovely house-guest, buying me pain au chocolats in the morning, and doing my washing up before I get the chance! So it'll be nice to have her living round the corner.
Since Thursday I've been back at school "working" (hah). I ended up giving most of my lessons last week about Guy Fawkes night, which was pretty fun with my more enthusiastic classes - especially explaining what it means to be "hanged, drawn and quartered" with little diagrams on the board (and seeing the confused faces of the next teacher to use the classroom when I forgot to rub those diagrams off!) With my 2nde Euro class we even made a Guy - but I think we were all as unimpressed as each other with how he turned out. Talking about it all the time did make me a little sad that I was missing out on all the fireworks in England though, so on Saturday Christina, Sara and I watched V for Vendetta (or, more precisely V pour Vendetta) in French to mark the occasion. |
| Guy's new home |
In other news, I have managed to get myself a cushy €22/h second job giving private English lessons (although I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, so that could be interesting...) and I have started salsa lessons, 7 weeks after everyone else in the class. Which, incidentally, is mostly made up of my students.
Sorry for the bumper edition this time - didn't think I had very much to write but I guess I was wrong - I've even had to leave a fair bit out, so exciting has my social life become(!) Also apologies for the slightly self-indulgent pity bit at the beginning - I'm starting to feel better already but wanted to have an honest account of the year abroad experience. So don't worry about me!
Coming soon on Diary of a Rosbif: Will our plucky heroine's first private lesson be an A* or an F? Will Montargis continue to be unseasonably warm, or will she have to admit defeat and buy some gloves? And will she be seduced by a Latin lothario in her next salsa class? Probably not, but tune in next week to find out all of this and more.
Saturday, 22 October 2011
Only Joking
Some kindly soul has lent me their code for the internet so I can
indulge my addiction until I get it properly next week. So bad news
everyone, I'm not going to be so absent after all. However I thought I'd use the opportunity to show you all some pictures of my new flat (even if I haven't finished unpacking yet...)!
Friday, 21 October 2011
Just a quick one...
...to say I've managed to move in, I have my keys (all 17 of them!) and my new flat is really rather lovely.
Text me if you want my address (or email/facebook but I can't promise to respond quickly!) and visitors would now be very welcome indeed!
Lots of love to all of you!
E
Text me if you want my address (or email/facebook but I can't promise to respond quickly!) and visitors would now be very welcome indeed!
Lots of love to all of you!
E
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Crunchy mister, house hunting and "One Day in Paris"
It's been a busy week here in 'Montar' (as those in the know call it), and things are finally starting to get sorted out, I hope! Despite the best attempts of France's finest bureaucrats, today I sorted myself out with:
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.
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.
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!
- 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.
 |
| 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.
 |
| 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!
Saturday, 8 October 2011
A round up of the week's news.
Monday was my first official day of school, which meant I spent most of the day filling in and signing forms, and being talked at by various important people. However, I also got hold of my attendance register, board pens and keys to the school! Never have I felt more official. The lovely ladies in the canteen also took pity on me and sorted me out with a card that lets me eat for free in the canteen - though I'm not actually convinced that's such a blessing having seen the "food" on offer there!
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| My classroom |
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| (don't worry there's an English flag too) |
I celebrated the success of my first day at school by promptly taking the second day off. I love my new job. I did however, use my time sensibly, and spent the afternoon becoming a member of the BNP. Fear not tolerant friends - the French bank, not the British extremist party. This was a gruelling process and took up most of the afternoon - and I still have to wait a week before I can actually, God forbid, use my account... But that's one thing off the list anyway. Spurred on by my achievement, I indulged in a little house hunting, and at last found an reasonable prospect (more on that in a second). Tuesday was also the day the rain arrived, and with it, the realisation that I had forgotten to pack my umbrella. Oops.
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| Artist's impression of "Thierry" |
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| Tartiflette! |
Thursday I went to school armed with more rice crispy cakes to try to win over the English teachers. Those who tried them thought they were great, but more of them than I would have thought possible genuinely refused to touch them because they were "English". Thought that was pretty rude actually - I knew it was a stereotype, but didn't realise that it was believed to such a large extent (and these people are English teachers!) Anyway, I was cheered up with some delicious French cooking for dinner in the form of Tartiflette - consisting of potatoes, bacon and onion with 2 WHOLE CHEESES melted on top. Ah, the French.
On Friday I was up bright and early for a 'stage' (training day) in Orléans. It was nice to meet some of the other assistants in the region, and to see the startling girl/boy ratio - no prizes for guessing who dominated by a LONG way! The stage itself was pretty dry, almost all administrative, and a lot didn't apply to EU residents, but we did get a tour of Orléans, including Joan of Arc's house (pictured on the left - built in 1965!), LOTS of statues of Joan of Arc - we English are apparently not too popular here, and the cathedral.
It seems I was missed at school on Friday though, as Julie tells me one boy dressed up smart especially - and is proudly telling his friends that I smiled at him in the street the other day! He was incensed that I wasn't there, as he'd even come on time for a change! The students are lovely though - two girls in my Seconde class (year 11) have offered to give me a tour of Montargis, and my Terminales (year 13) were a bit naughty yesterday, so they want to take me for ice cream (at McDonalds!) to apologise. Bless. Then again, given the teachers' reaction to the fruits of my baking labours on Wednesday, maybe I'm better off being friends with the students - after all, it's not that long since I was a sixth former myself!
To round off the week, I've just finished watching France beat England in the rugby, and I can tell you they're not the most gracious of winners:
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