Post-vacation blues

It's been awhile, but that's do to the fantastic two week break which came just in time after three grueling weeks of work.  I spent my vacation time in Italy with another assistant, Julie, and let's just say we came back in need of a serious vacation.  Before I get to that, here's a bit of an update on the few days I've been back in France.

The strike is over!!!  Well, for now anyway.  The peace will not last for long I'm afraid, but at the moment, I'm grateful the French would rather not deprive their fellow man for too long.

I think I may finally have a concrete schedule.  I at least know which classes I am teaching at one of my schools and I have the freedom to make my own lesson plans.  We have only learned how to say the date and they can only say that particular date (It's Thursday, November 4th) but I think next class I'll move onto a more difficult task, introducing the days of the week and the months, and it will be difficult.

Fellow Louisianians, it is cold in the North of France.  The weather channel may report a crisp 40 degrees, but it is a piercing and drenching 40 degrees...no wait, it just dropped another 10 degrees.  How is that 70 degree weather treating you over there in the South?  Not fair.  My Southern upbringing has in no way taught me to anticipate the cold, thus I have learned the hard way that windy does not mean light breeze and scarves are not just a cute accessory.  Too bad I had to learn this lesson waiting twenty minutes for the bus and walking thirty minutes home from the train station.

After two weeks in Italy, Douai has lost some of its excitement, but I was glad to be back in a familiar place hearing a familiar , yet still foreign to my ears, language.

Oh, France

Une grève 

You're not going to make this easy on me are you France? 
The most important word I've learned this month just happens to be "une grève" or in English "strike". We are three weeks into October and there's already been around four strikes, maybe more.  As most of you have probably heard or read at some point, the French government has decided to increase the retirement age by two years...the French are not happy.  A strike is quite a site to see.  Men and women crowd the town center and march along the streets to protest an injustice: flags are waved, fliers are strewn about and thrown into the air like confetti, and smoke fills the sky as flares and fireworks erupt.  Every impacted group bands together: teachers, train conductors, garbage men, everything stops for a nationwide protest.  It's quite an inspiring and extremely democratic act.

I've heard several times that, as an American, I just will not understand the importance of a strike.  This is true; I don't understand.  When have Americans felt the need to strike or carried out a strike successfully...not often, but the French, it seems accept the terms of a strike.  I, on the other hand find it to be a bit of a hassle.  I mean, I am American and like I'm told, I just don't understand.  I have yet to go to work on a Monday because of one thing or another and this week it was because of a strike.  It's seems strange to me to wait in a train station surrounded by unperturbed Frenchmen.  How are they not frustrated that the trains they rely on everyday are not running?  I applaud their acceptance of these apparently frequent occurrences.  Oh well, I guess the only thing to do is leave the train station and grab a pastry on the way home...

Public Transportation: Another thing to get used to

I started "working" this monday.  If you can call what I did work.  Well, actually Monday was a bit of a let down for me and the school I was meant to visit.  I'm going to blame the bus even if it was probably my fault.  I have no practice relying on a public transportation system.  I can just get in my car at home and drive 10 minutes to wherever I need to be.  It's not quite the same here.  My schools are the farthest from Douai so I have to take a train and then a bus.

On Monday, I didn't have to be at school until 1:30 (go ahead, it's okay to be jealous), but I left about 2 hours early just to ensure that I would make the train and then of course the bus.  I found the train fairly easily and made it to Somain an hour early to wait for the bus.  I could probably walk to Erre, but I have absolutely no sense of direction or the skills necessary to read a map...this is why I always rely on the buddy system.  I waited patiently for the bus, and I waited, and I waited, and eventually 3 hours passed.  I was 3 hours late for my first day!  Seriously, this is my life right now?  It was mortifying.  Not only was I late, but I have already met the teacher I would be working with.  Remember Gilles and his adorable children?  Yep, this was a member of the wonderful and generous family I decided not to live with and now I wasn't showing up for work.  Not the best first impression.

I finally decided to take the train back to Douai and email Gilles about my public transportation mishap, but he beat me to it.  He called and offered to take me to work every morning instead of taking the train and risking missing the bus.  He's been too too nice to the crazy American girl who can't even read a bus schedule (it's really hard to understand, but I've mastered it by now).

I just have to find the humor in the whole situation.  Sure I missed my first day, but I can't do anything but apologize and, after the initial shock, it really was a hilarious day.

A Bientôt

What do you mean Belgium?

Lille, France  

Tournai Cathedral, Tournai Belgium 

A day in Lille
4 Trains
40 minutes as fugitives
mystery meat for dinner

The week that I've been here has been absolutely exhausting. It feels more like six months than one week, but so far an exciting six months.  The weekends in Douai are mediocre at best. It's a fairly small town with very little to do. The streets are usually deserted by 8:00, but this weekend I've encountered more adventures than expected in the small town of Douai.
SATURDAY:
The adventures begin with a day trip to Lille.  We left around 10:30 bound for Lille and were planning to return around 8:00...the trains back to a small town finish their routes around 9:00. Unfortunately, unlike the beautiful, sun-filled day before, Saturday was wet and dreary, but such is life, we enjoyed are day of travel regardless. For a few hours, we wandered about the city, taking pictures, visiting a six story bookstore (yes, six stories and an amazing art section) eating pastries and finally sitting down to a typical French meal of duck, fries, and salad.  C'est incroyable!
We toured a cathedral, did some shopping in the cheap home stores (I bought towels in Lille because Douai is incredibly expensive for a small town) and decided to head home around 6:00 due to complete exhaustion.
Here comes the exciting part.  We found a train leaving for Douai at 6:20...apparently too good to be true.  We could get on a train in ten minutes time and be back in our warm, dry rooms watching movies and skyping friends in less than an hour.  Well, it didn't work out that way.  Train schedules still throw me. Instead, we got on our 6:20 train, relaxing for around 20 minutes until we realized that none of the scenery looked familiar (Well, I didn't notice. (French countryside is French countryside to me). It wasn't until the conductor announced "une problème, une problème" did we discover that we were in fact headed to Belgium (without passports). Ummm...that's sort of another country. We got off of the train in Tounai, BELGIUM to wait forty minutes for a train back to Lille to wait for another train back to Douai. Our hopes to be home by 9:00 were quickly dashed, but all in a days adventure. We spent the next forty minutes searching for something to eat...regrettably we stumbled upon mystery meat sandwiches and fries (there are some foods you just have to experience in life I suppose). Finally, we caught the train back to Lille, then the train back to Douai.
The fun is in the journey and one unexpected trip to Belgium has us planning a day trip this weekend for Brussels.

Belgium was just the beginning of an interesting weekend


A Bientot

How do you say...

Last night I was invited to dine with a prospective host family.  My contact here decided it would help my French to live with a French family, nevermind the awkwardness of actually living with a French family.  So my prospective host dad, Gilles, and his 6 year old son Maxime, picked me up at 5:30 for dinner.  He was kind enough to speak French as slowly as possible while I answered in English.  He explained to me that they lived in a flat on the fourth floor (already a bad sign) and that I would meet his wife and his 4 year old daughter Juliette.

You know that moment when you enter someone's home and whether you know them or not, it's immediately awkward?  Then comes questions like "where do I put my bag and should I take my shoes off too or do I wait in the foyer until they invite me to sit?"  Well, in a French home where the customs are already foreign, it is 10 times worse.  Children always know how to cast aside the awkward.  Juliette with wide, beautiful brown eyes gave me a gift and invited me in. 

After sitting with the family and being introduced to the butterfly prince and princess of the Barbie Kingdom, I set the table and watched as Gilles' wife prepared dinner.  They asked me to describe popular Louisiana cuisine and I chose crawfish, which is impossible to describe.  (Everyone in France seems to think that Louisiana is more French that it really is--a bank clerk asked me today if we speak a little French in Louisiana...um not so much).  Dinner consisted of an entree of melon and tomatoes, a premier plat of delicious potatoes and roast, and a dessert of glace (try explaining the phrase I scream for ice scream--"you scream when you're afraid, yes"... or for ice cream)

During dinner, I played English tutor to Gilles and his children:

Maxime "Comment a dit anniversaire en anglais"
-Birthday
Juliette "Comment a dit tomates en anglais"
-Tomatoes
Maxime "Comment a dit Maxime en anglais"
-Maxime
Juliette "Comment a dit Leslie en anglais"
-Leslie

This went on for quite some time, but it was adorable. I hope the kids I teach this year will be just as curious and cute.

After dinner, Gilles and his wife offered me a room--their daughters room to be exact--and although they were quite generous I've decided to make my life a little more difficult and live with the other assistants in a dorm room.  Studying French has become my most time consuming hobby it seems.

I will plan on my life abroad becoming more interesting in the coming weeks.

A Bientot for now

An American in Douai

Aside from the train station fiasco, France and I have made peace and become friends.  Douai sits outside of Lille and is my current residence.  I'm living in a dorm room at the Ecole des Mines, something I haven't really experienced before.  Four other assistants live on my floor, three from America and one from England (I tend to think with a British accent after speaking with her).  So far I haven't done anything too exciting besides exploring the city.  Douai has amazing shopping...not that I'm doing any of that, but maybe in the future. 

I frequently visit Le Match, the supermarche closest to my dorm usually to buy something for lunch and each time American music is playing.  Being American is apparently a benefit.  I can find my culture anywhere!  Including translations of Twilight and Uncle Ben's rice jazzed up French style.  The disadvantage is obviously the food.  I have had some of the best food since my arrival.  My first full day here I ate at La Creperie.  Crepes are of course a French staple, but I have now experienced a crepe is its most superb form: the Galette.  Oh yeah.  A galette is a lunch or dinner crepe.  I ordered the club galette filled with gruyere cheese, ham, and an egg.  C'est magnifique!  Is it sad that the most interesting event since my arrival has been my first meal?...no

A Bientot

Waiting for the train Day 1

Highlights from Day 1

1 nice woman from Prague 

2 encounters with body odor before leaving the airport

2 hostile "madams"--I should pay more attention

18 consecutive looks of disdain for the clumsy American with an absurd amount of luggage 

2 very stressful train rides 

2 very sore feet

1 cut on my hand from absurdly heavy luggage 

1 excruciatingly long and painful walk to a second train station involving an absurd amount of luggage and stairs 

I've picked up to pieces of wisdom in my first days in France. 1) I am the crier of the family and 2) never...ever...ever bring three bags of luggage to Europe...never.  If you can't carry it up or down a flight of stairs without the help of 2 very friendly Frenchmen you don't need it.  

My flight to Paris was uneventful, thankfully, however never having been forced to take public transportation I was unprepared for what came next.  After buying my ticket and heaving the absurd amount of luggage I've already mentioned around the airport/ train station, I finally found the platform.  If only it was 9 3/4 life would be easy, but there was no mention of which platform led to which train.  After asking several people I found the right train and thus came the 18 consecutive looks of disdain.  Most people were willing to help the sad and pathetic looking American and for that I am eternally grateful, but I have learned my lesson.

After all of that, I do love this city.  It's beautiful and I can't wait to start working and explore more of France. 

Just waiting for the train that first day in Lille I know I can do just about anything 

A Bientôt 

Leslie