I see London, I see France...

So, the family I work for went for a “holiday” to London in December, and I jumped at the chance to go along to babysit. We arrived Friday night by train. It was freezing cold! Standing in line for a funny looking British taxi was painful, it was so cold. I stayed with Lawrence in the room and they went for a drink, and then I brought him down the pub they were at so we could

all have dinner. It was weird because I came in holding his hand, and we found them. When the bartender came over to get our orders, he kept asking me questions for Lawrence, and I realized that he thought Lawrence was MY son, and they were his grandparents! It just kind of struck me. I have classmates from high school who have and are having kids, but that it could possibly happen to me in any realm of reality never really reached my consciousness until that moment. I am an adult human who could create life and presumably be responsible for it. Scary! Haha. After a great meal of “proper” fish and chips and an English Ale, I was off for the night.

I stayed with a couple, Helen and Chris, in West Ealing, and “commuted” to the hotel each day by tube (The London Underground). It really does look like a tube. Since I was in London for eight days last summer I had done most of the big stuff already, and just wanted to hang out with some locals and go to a pub, etc. Helen and Chris are one of the cutest couples ever. He is Australian, and she is British (but her family is from Spain originally). They were so

accommodating and sweet! Not to mention hilarious. We all had a lot in common and got along really well. Chris and I talked about Australia a lot, and I have to say he made me bump it up a few slots on my “Places to Visit” list. It sounds utterly amazing. On my last night they took me to a comedy show. Of course, I got picked on a lot for being American (all in good fun, of course) including getting serenaded Wham’s “Careless Whisper” by a chubby Brit wearing a spandex cat costume and one nipple tassel. But that’s another story. ;) I had a fabulous weekend filled with good conversations, lots of laughs, great food, a lot of tea, and wonderful people.

Unfortunately, it was also a weekend of extreme snow fall for London. When it was time for me to take my train back to Paris, all of the travel was extremely backed up. In fact, the headline of a newspaper that I picked up on the way TO THE TRAIN STATION read “You can’t even escape by train!” Lovely. And it was a good indicator of the rest of my day.

Since travel was so backed up, your ticket time didn’t matter, as long as you had one, you got in an extremely long line (or queue as the British say :-P). Then they just loaded trains on a first come first serve basis as fast as they could, which was not fast at all. After marching through snow to the very end of the line several blocks away, my socks were soaked. Then, I waited in the cold with wet feet for about three hours before even getting inside St. Pancras. The Salvation Army was there handing out coffee, tea, and some hot food like curry and even Domino’s brought pizza. News stations kept filming us and interviewing the people waiting. I waited for four more hours inside the train station before getting a ticket, and another hour and a half inside the lounge. Whew. It was an exhausting day.

When I finally made it back to Paris at midnight, I was ecstatic. I came into Gare du Nord, the same station as last summer when I arrived in Paris for the first time and completely alone because of a flight mix up. Back then I remember feeling so scared, alone, and confused. I had no idea where I was, how to get where I was going, and my French was pretty abysmal. This time, I knew exactly where I was, understood all of the announcements, and even asked the guy next to me if he’d prefer the window seat. It felt so…comfortable. Coming back to Paris was like coming home. I was so excited to be back I didn’t even take the bus the rest of the way with my suitcase, but just walked, soaking up the sights and smells of Paris again. J

Christmas Time in the City (of luurrrve)

After my last class before Christmas, during which I made my students sing Christmas carols, my premières (youngest grade in French high school) stopped me in the hallway. One girl asked me if I could stay for a minute. I was confused, but said sure. The next thing a knew, the rest of the class (it's split into two groups, and I see one group per week) congregated, and one particularly charming kid named Vincent came up with a big brightly colored bag. They all yelled "Merry Christmas!" and presented it to me. It was my first Christmas gift from students, and I was truly floored by their ability to coordinate and how much they must like me, because there were some NICE chocolates inside! Jeff de Bruges makes some goooood stuff, I'll tell you that.

Here is a picture of the chocolate:

However, the best part was the card they made. It cracked me up so much.

Apparently Santa does "all imaginable" badass things in France...

Dave read this and said "Until our spaceship sends us away from Earth which will be the end of relationship." Hahahahaha.

And, of course, a Star Wars reference.

These are the kinds of things that make me love teaching, and motivate me to work harder for my students. :) It really set the tone for Christmas break.

So this is Christmas

Paris cannot handle snow. It snowed about ten centimeters, or a little less than four inches, today and traffic is at a standstill. Apparently it is the most snow Paris has had since 1987. Horns honk impatiently, the distinct “EEE OOO” sound of the sirens of emergency vehicles wails as they try to maneuver through the blocked streets, and the traffic lights cycle through red and green with no movement of traffic because this much snow is incomprehensible. They even shut down the Eiffel tower. Man, these parisiens would HATE Grand Rapids.

I spent the day inside, playing “snowball fight” with Lawrence as fat snowflakes drifted down outside, and we listened to Christmas music on my laptop. I put his coat and gloves on him and took him out on the balcony to experience the snow. He mostly just made snow balls and then sucked on them like they were some kind of candy, but to each his own. Recently Maja told me that her mom said something about how it just isn’t Christmas without children. I have always been rather indifferent to the idea of having children, but that point stuck with me. I can’t imagine the holidays having that “magic” without children to enjoy it and to bring it to life for everyone else. I am sitting in the tiny French café on the corner by my house. I like it because it is so authentically French. It hasn’t been updated since the 70’s it seems like, and it’s always the same barman working, and there is always a crowd of regulars (crusty old French people who speak no English and have been coming here forever). I think the barman thinks I’m nuts for coming in despite old French men hitting on me, but there is something truly charming and extremely French about this place. That being said, the older men are harmless and it gives me a chance to speak French. It is definitely not a place for tourists. Plus, they have a room that consists entirely of windows so I can sit and watch people pass by on the street while I drink my chocolat chaud.

With the winter weather and December sneaking up on me, I’ve been thinking about Christmas a lot recently. It is going to be my first Christmas away from my family. Ever. I keep going around in my head about it. I got invited to join my host family from last summer in Nice, and to see my Sicilian family who I have never met, but I plan to while I’m here. Neither of those worked out, too expensive. I got offered babysitting on Christmas day, and with that in mind, I have decided to stay in Paris. I want to at least spend it with some children. Sandra and Andre are going to London for a weekend during my break, and today they told me that they would pay for me to come if I can babysit when they go out. It would be a fun Christmasy trip. I realized that besides not seeing my family and Dave, it shouldn’t be that bad to be here for Christmas. I mean I’m in Paris for God’s sake. There are lights strung up over the roads, festive markets hawk Christmas items and delicious hot food, snow is falling, and I caught the fresh scent of pine from the fresh pine trees at the stores (45 euro for a tree! That’s like 60 dollars! I guess I’ve never bought a tree but it seems a bit steep!). The best part of Christmas is and always has been the anticipation; hearing Christmas songs, making cookies, playing in the snow. Christmas day I always feel a little deflated, like the fun is over. I had a snowball fight with the other kids I babysit for this week. I had so much fun chasing the boys and dodging the (somewhat pathetic…I am from Michigan after all) cold fluffy balls of snow while Parisiens reluctantly smiled as they passed. It definitely got me in the Christmas spirit. I am just going to try and have as many Christmasy moments as I can. I had my students sing "Jingle Bells" yesterday, and they loved it. They cracked up when I added the "HA HA HA" after "laughing all the way." I asked a student how Christmas is different here. He said, “I sink eet ees ze same as America, just weeth…euh…less decorating.” I laughed. I’m sure he’s seen Christmas Vacation and thinks that all Americans are like that.

So, I’m going to have a French Christmas. I hope to Skype with my family though. I miss them. J

Here is my Christmas playlist if you're looking for something Christmasy too. ;)

Discover the playlist Christmas with John Williams

Too cool for school.

I need to update this more so that I’m not playing an endless game of catch up. Let’s see…

Work has been going well. I asked all of my classes what stereotypes French people have for Americans. I even told them that I was the one time they could get away with badmouthing Americans in front of me. I was shocked at how little animosity they have for Americans…in fact, it was quite the contrary. The worst things I heard were “Zey eat a lot of ze fast food,” or “Zey are…euh…couch potato!” which I thought was pretty funny actually. It made me feel bad about all the annoying comments I got from Americans when I told them I was coming to France, like “Remind them who helped them out in the war!” (What about the Revolutionary War, doofus?) Or, “Well I hope you’ll shower more than the French do.” Why do Americans like to hate on the French? There are tons of French stereotypes; you know it as well as I do. For example, in one of my favorite childhood Christmas films, Home Alone (which oddly enough is called “Maman, J'ai Raté L'avion” – “Mom, I Missed the Plane” – in French), Buzz says, “French babes don’t shave their pits!” We should be what the French call “Les incompetents”, but they actually do seem to like us. Maybe Obama’s international popularity has something to do with this.

My kids love all things American for the most part (except Lady Gaga. They don’t seem to be fans for some reason…). They watch almost only American TV shows and listen to a LOT of American music. It’s kind of an interesting perspective to have, being in their school. I’m like some kind of really cool Martian that they are intimidated by but seem very impressed with. I wish my students in the U.S. felt that way too, haha.

One of the English teachers has had jury duty for the last couple of weeks, so there has been a substitute filling in, who is around my age, Leslie. It’s been interesting talking to someone my age and who also just finished studying to be a teacher. It’s so different here! For example, the French Ministry of Education takes count of how many teachers and substitutes will be needed, and ONLY certifies that many. As opposed to back home, where anyone who qualifies is certified and then we just have to fend for ourselves in the workforce, French teachers are actually placed where they are needed. Not sure which way is better...

It’s also still something I am getting used to that teachers all share classrooms. The high school actually functions a lot more like a university. Teachers have different schedules, and switch rooms accordingly. If a teacher is only sick for a day, they just cancel class. Classes run Monday through Saturday, with classes only in the morning on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Teachers here are only paid for the eighteen hours a week they spend in front of the class, and then other than that are not expected to be at school. When I student taught I learned that in the U.S. you are contracted to be at school from around 7 AM (about 30 minutes before school starts) to help students before school if they need it. Leaving right after school is frowned upon in American schools, and often times being able to coach a sport or being willing to run a club is preferred, which equals even more time at school. On top of that, we still have to lesson plan, grade papers, do parent-teacher conferences, curriculum meetings; the list goes on and on. However, here school is much more academic and less about socializing. There is no prom, or clubs, very few team sports. The focus is entirely on the Baccalaureate which they need to do well on to go to college (and preferably a good one, because the clout of their University really does matter when looking for jobs here). Back home, a kid can go to college with no idea what they want to do. Here in France, that is not the case. Academic competition is pretty cutthroat, and that follows you as you go on to enter the workforce.

There are also no clocks in the classrooms, which drives me nuts if I forget my watch. It is also the first time I have used an actual chalkboard to teach. It’s old school. Pun intended. The heaters don't work extremely well either, so it can be pretty cold in certain rooms. They also don't have computers in every room (only in the teachers' room) like you see back home. There is maybe a TV and VCR/DVD but technology just isn't big in French education.

I am soaking up as much cultural information as I can, and am really enjoying myself. I saw my painter friends, Cerb and Michel again this week. I was working on the computer and I heard them say, “C’est Kelly!” I chatted with them for a while. Cerb asked me if we use “yaoo” in the States. I was like..er.. I don’t think so…until I realized he was saying "Yahoo." Sometimes the fact that the French don’t pronounce "h’s" makes communication really difficult! You can’t hear the difference between “angry” and “hungry” at all when they say it. I made my kids repeat the two after me in class last week, exaggerating the “h” sound on hungry. I’m pretty sure I made them spit all over each other but they were laughing a lot.

Being a language assistant is perfect because it’s everything I like about teaching minus grading piles of papers every night. I’m really enjoying what my professors told me would be the most laid back year of my life. It’s weird after five years of an intense college schedule. Now it’s like I hardly have anything to worry about and I’m learning to relax. I didn't have to teach one of my classes today, and was told I don't need to teach my last class on Thursday or Friday. Still no full work week! No wonder I'm so relaxed.

Another day, another Euro

So, at my school I get a reduced lunch for a measly 2.50 Euro. Which is still $3.40, but for a meal here it's amazingly cheap. It comes with a soup/salad, main dish, yogurt or cheese, and fruit or dessert. So, I went to school earlier than normal to take advantage of this deal. But, I got there later than intended, so when I got to the teacher's lounge with my tray, there was literally NO ONE that I knew. Everyone looked at me when I walked in so I kind of panicked and just made a really fast judgement call on who was the least intimidating. Two guys in their late twenties to early thirties won, so they got stuck with me. It wasn't until I was sitting down that I noticed their paint splattered clothes. They were definitely not teachers. Turns out I sat down with two painters who were doing work on the school...lol. But Michel and Cerb were extremely nice and chatted the whole lunch hour with me in French about America, France, what I should see while I'm here, etc. They were good lunchtime company.

Then, later, I met one of the classes I have yet to meet because of the strikes, then the teacher was sick, and then there was a bank holiday. I have yet to work a full 12 hours a week...*knock on wood*. I was in the middle of introducing myself to the class of about 24 students when a kid called out really loudly "You are very beautiful!" in a really thick French accent. This caused the rest of the class to erupt with laughter and me to blush like crazy. I know it's a compliment but I felt really awkward. Even the teacher laughed at me. :-/

Odile gives me a ride to the train station after school everyday, and I always blabber away in French with her. She is honestly one of the nicest people I have ever met. She invited me to come over and cook an American meal for her sometime. I'm thinking macaroni and cheese. Another teacher was saying that they should take me on a daytrip to Champagne. I love how nice everyone is at my school. A lot of them were language assistants in England so they know what it's like and take it upon themselves to make sure I experience France while I'm here. I'm very lucky.

I am very excited for this weekend for two reasons:

1. On Saturday night I get to eat for free at Mary. They specialize in gelato but they offered a free Italian meal from their new menu for twenty Yelpers, and I got in. Score! Plus, I'm excited to meet and rub elbows with other Paris Yelpers. It's still a really small community, and I have some free time so I'd love to get more involved. Plus, the more French friends I have = the more French I speak = the better I do on my French exams. It's win-win-win.

2. After my free dinner, I am joining some of my fellow language assistants on a party boat on the Seine. I always see boats on the river when I walk by and I have been dying to be on one. We took a boat tour when I studied abroad last summer but this will be so much better because A. I don't have to pretend to listen to a tour guide and B. it's at night and drinks and dancing are involved.

Right now I am very happy to be here. Now I just need to get paid again so I can figure out what in the world I'm going to do for Christmas.

Reasons why living in France has made me a better person already:

1. Exercise. Not only have I been running (I can't give France the credit for that), but I walk a lot more than I would in the states.

2. Also, it's probably doing wonders for my carbon footprint that I don't have a car and use public transportation, unplug everything in my room besides the fridge when I'm not using it, and still don't eat meat. I don't think I will ever be better for the environment than I am right now.

3. Also good for the environment, I take faster showers. My college roommates know that I can take a while in there. For one thing, I have a TON of curly hair to work through with conditioner, but besides that, it is just pleasant being in a hot shower. Here, with my tiny water heater, I have fifteen minutes TOPS before I run out. That, combined with the fact that my shower is a human-sized glass cubicle, is not helping me in the leg shaving department. Good thing I don't have anyone to impress here anyway. Ha. Now I'M the French stereotype. Some French people even turn off the water while they lather or any other shower activity that doesn't require the water running. I miss long, luxurious showers. This one might fall by the wayside when I get back to the states. We'll see.

4. Being away from home has caused me to keep one eye on World news, just to stay up to date with what is going on back home. I check BBC news every morning when I wake up. I don't think I've ever been so aware of what's going on in the world. I hope I keep this habit when I return home. I also decided that in my [magical hypothetical future] classroom I will start each class period with World News, or if I teach French, I will focus on Europe. After teaching here, American students seem pretty oblivious to the rest of the world. It's not entirely their fault, our media focuses primarily on the U.S. That's why I like BBC news so much.

5. I can tell my French is getting stronger because I no longer feel like a deaf mute. When I saw Antoine last week he told me he can tell it's getting better. Being the whole purpose of this experience, it makes me very happy.

6. With all of the delays, paperwork, surprises, and irritations I have had to deal with, I feel like I am learning to roll with the punches, pick my battles, and let what I can't control go. Example of a surprise: I was babysitting for a new family (two boys, 6 and 9) this weekend for the first time. When I told them to go put on their pajamas, one came flying out of the bathroom toward me completely naked save for a book he was holding over his crotch region, screaming his head off. My response was to laugh and say, "Go get your pajamas on, you dork." He just giggled like crazy and ran back to the bathroom. On his return trip I realized he had on tighty whities, thank God. Kids are so funny. I am quickly getting used to boys. They are SO different from the girls I used to babysit for. Good experience to have though.

7. To be continued...

Off to bed, have to teach bright and early (or dark and early, thanks to Daylight Savings).

TRAVEL FEST 99!

I just booked tickets to Athens, Berlin, and Rome for February!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

C'est ma vie.

Now that the vacation is over along with the strikes and protests, my life has gained some sense of normalcy. I say some because tomorrow is a bank holiday so there is no school, and Friday I get to go in late because they are taking an exam and I'm not needed in the morning. We'll see if I ever work my full 12 hours a week, but I'm pretty okay with that.

If anyone is reading this as a guide to what your experience will be in this program, you should probably stop now. From what I have heard from my other assistant friends, everyone's experience is drastically different. I work with seven different teachers, so what I do depends on them. For some, they send me four to six students, and I can literally teach them whatever I want and my only real goal is to get them speaking English as much as possible. For others I get fifteen students at a time, and still others I get one at a time. At orientation we are not supposed to have more than eight at a time, but I don't mind because my big groups are really great kids. For the terminale (which sounds like they are dying but is actually the equivalent of our high school seniors), I take them one by one and show them a "document" (either a photo or a phrase). They get ten minutes to study it and take notes to prepare, and then ten minutes to talk to me about the photo. This is really easy, but I prefer teaching bigger groups. It's nice too because I can reuse my lesson plans because the groups change every week. The kids have all been really good save for that some of them seem to be terrified of speaking English with me (because I'm soooo intimidating, clearly). Until yesterday that is. For some reason one of the teachers gave me four boys at a time who clearly should not have been put together. They were obnoxious as hell and kept egging each other on. During introductions they told me that they "like women." Later when I was trying to talk about differences between the US and France one said "I like ze US because it's easy to get ze women in your bed." Le sigh. I was pretty happy when that class was over. My other classes were great though. When I told one class of fifteen that I live in LA (I still show them Michigan on the map, I haven't forgotten where I came from :), and that my boyfriend works in Hollywood, they all gasped like I'm the coolest thing since sliced bread. This of course leads to ridiculous questions like "Do you know Beyonce?"

After introducing myself, I asked my kids if they had any questions for me. One kid said really quietly "Oui, es tu celebataire?" which means "Yes, are you single?" I said, "Oh, and in case you were wondering, I DO understand some French even though I won't speak it with you." All the kids laughed including the one who said it even though his face turned bright red.

I talked a lot about stereotypes of the US and French kids seem obsessed with the idea of cheerleaders. They call them "pom pom girls" and several kids have asked me if I was one while in school. I was also a little surprised to find out that they didn't know the phrase "trick-or-treat." France has a lot of holidays, but I just can't imagine my life without having gone door to door and asking for candy dressed up as Xena Warrior Princess.

When asked about the differences between the US and France, one kid said that in the US people would think French men are gay for dressing nicely. He is probably right. In a country where homosexuality is already more (although not completely) accepted than the US, a man wearing a scarf or a murse (man purse if you're unfamiliar with the term) is not assumed to be gay. Men are almost always dressed impeccably and it's normal here. Really though, much like my cell phone, my gaydar is just not functional in Europe. I thought that was an interesting cultural difference to note.

I had my students make me a list of French music to check out. I'm excited to give them a whirl.

Aside from school and babysitting, it looks like I won't be able to come home for Christmas this year. My Sicilian family that I have never met invited me to join them for the holiday, and my host mom from last summer invited me back to Nice. No white Christmas for me, but it should be a memorable one either way.

Marie, the baguettes! Hurry up!

I just have to share this because I think it's adorable. I was walking back to my place today and I had a baguette in my hand. As I stood waiting to cross the street I felt a little tug on it. I looked down and there was a little boy standing behind me with his mom. When I looked at him he had a huge smile plastered on his face, and he just grinned up at me as if to say "I just had to touch it." It was really freaking cute.

Also, Sandra turned me on to sushi. I get one that is basically rice, cream cheese, and chives. It is fantastic. I also learned that the French for "chopsticks" is BAGUETTES. It blew my mind.

So, I have been trying to take different ways home to expand my territory. YesterdayI got out at the Cardinal Lemoine stop and THANK GOD. I wanted bread and I saw a bright pink bakery across the street. I had enough change for a baguette and an eclair. I hadn't had an eclair since I got to France, so I figured, what the hell? OH. MY. GOD. The filling was gooey creamy chocolate (pudding almost), and it was covered in a thick layer of divine dark chocolate frosting. Seriously, it might have been the best thing I've ever eaten. Not only that, but the baguette was perfect. Crispy on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. I was impressed, so I Googled the bakery. Turns out that they won second place this year in the Grand Prix de la Baguette de Tradition Française de la Ville de Paris. That's impressive when the connoisseurs of baguettes, (a.k.a. Parisiens) vote you number two in the city. I was so proud of myself for my newly found baguette tasting skills. Apparently I know a good baguette when I eat one. It is dangerous that I live so close to this place. They also have some interesting flavors like coconut croissants and pistachio eclairs. It's a good thing I have to climb seven flights of stairs at least once a day.

As an afterthought, on my way home I saw a Frenchmen riding a bike wearing a beret and carrying a baguette in his bike basket. Mental snapshot. :)

Pay Day!

I have officially been paid. I almost feel bad because I made about a grand for two weeks of OBSERVING. I literally barely worked at all because of the transportation strike, and then the students were out protesting. People are allowed to strike on Tuesday and Thursday in France so you usually see something going on. This past Tuesday, on my way home from running I saw a protest making its way down the street toward a group of cops with those giant bullet proof shields. I was out like a fat kid in dodgeball. I wonder how the protests will be after the vacation. Maybe everyone will feel relaxed and life will go back to "normal." Also, I am on week three of my 5K training. I can't believe I've come this far. I used to BE the fat kid who was out in dodgeball. Plus, Dave is training for a half marathon so it's nice that we can motivate each other.

Also I have been going out and socializing a bit, and it's been really fun. Maja and I found a Portuguese concert last week that turned into dancing until the wee hours, and I have come to realize that I am within walking distance to some of the best nightlife in Paris, which is great because the metro closes before the bars. On top of that, I live in a really safe area so I feel comfortable walking home.

Sorry for the short update, have to babysit and most likely play pirates (or as Lawrence says, "peer-rots"), then meet Anne at the train station for a Halloween weekend in Paris Extravaganza. Also, word on the street is that I should have internet by November 4th! But after all, this is France... ;)

Paris, Pirates, and Plans

I apologize for my hiatus. Along with not having internet Windows Vista became corrupted on my laptop and it was running extremely slowly if at all. As of today, thanks to my friend Flo, I now have Windows 7 and what seems to be a happy computer again. Yay!

So, the family I babysit for is back. They did some things in my room, like installed a towel rack and another shelf, mounted a mirror, and the fridge finally arrived. The microwave will be here tomorrow, and I should have internet sooner than later (I don’t dare say soon). Apparently one company has to come and confirm that there is no existing line in the room, and THEN the company we’re actually getting internet from will hook it up within a week after that. I can’t wait to be able to call home whenever I want and to look up things to do and see in Paris from the comfort of my little room, which I do like very much. It’s cute and works perfectly for my needs.

The three year old with jet lag can be a bit cranky, it turns out. The first time he saw me his face crumpled like someone told him he would never get dessert again. However by the time his mom came home and tried to give him a kiss he said, “No, I’m playing with Kelly right now.” He is really freaking cute. I always forget how kids that age can turn on and off the waterworks so quickly. He fell on his scooter the other day after we were playing “animal doctor” with his stuffed animals and immediately there were big fat tears rolling down his rosy cheeks. After a quick assessment I determined he was fine, just scared. I said, “Should we take you to the doctor?” He started crying harder and screamed “I don’t want to go to the doctor!” I quickly explained, “No, I mean the animal doctor. Remember?” He said, “Oh yeah.” and INSTANTLY stopped crying, like turning off a switch. It was an impressive theatrical performance. I wonder if I was like that at that age. (Dad, you’re probably reading this, was I?) Yesterday I spent an hour playing “pirates” with him. I was running around the living room with a piece of wood for a gun, ducking and “shooting” at each other and having sword fights. Every time I would dramatically groan and flop to the ground after being shot, Lawrence would come up and say, “Want me to help you up?” (in a really cute French accent). Adorable. Kids’ imaginations are so amazing. I’m glad I’m still a kid at heart; I have a lot of fun playing with him.

I haven’t had to do much other than babysit this week because I keep getting called off of work. Tuesday there was another transportation strike, so I couldn’t get there. I was supposed to go today but the students are on strike. They are marching in the streets, blockading schools, and I saw on the news tonight that it even got violent in Lyon. The footage I’ve seen bears a resemblance to Vietnam War era protests with police and young adults squaring off. Luckily I have been able to avoid most of the drama. I did see some of the young people (or “jeunesse”) marching through the RER platforms today banging on drums and singing. I got a text from one of the teachers at my school saying I don’t even have to go tomorrow. Then, we have a vacation for a week and a half. Good grief. Between the terrorism threats and the strikes I picked one hell of a time to live in France.

So, in my newly found spare time I have been exploring the city with Maja. We went up to Montmartre and wandered around the cemetery, found the café from Amelie, and checked out Moulin Rouge. Yesterday we went to Pere Lachaise where a lot of famous people are laid to rest including Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, and Gertrude Stein. It was a fun Halloweenish outing. We are also planning on going down to the catacombs around Halloween. I didn’t get to go the last time I was here and I’m really stoked. Should be nice and creepy. We are also planning a Halloween party at Maja’s. I still need to come up with a costume for that, ideas are welcome. We have also been cooking together over at her place, since she has a full kitchen. It saves us a lot of money to pool our resources, and it’s nice to sit down and eat a hot meal with someone.

This weekend I have plans with my French friend Maria. My friend Anne from Grand Valley, who is studying abroad in Angers, is visiting me for Halloween, and then some teachers from my school are taking me on a daytrip to see some French castles. I’m looking forward to all of it. J

I miss the internet

I am literally sitting on a window ledge on the street using the internet right now. It is absolutely inconceivable to me that it should be so hard to use the internet for free in this day and age. My God. I guess most people don't have to carry their computers down seven flights of stairs either, but come on.

I actually saw the strikers on Tuesday, they came right down my street. It was more like a parade. They played music and were dancing to it, there were big orangeballoons, and French people dressed up like the grim reaper version of Sarkozy. It actually felt pretty festive and with the orange balloons and grim reapers it was the closest thing I'll get to a Halloween parade.

I have been extremely frustrated and isolated for the last few days. Hanging out with friends and working helped, but I really really really miss home. I know it'll get better once I get internet but wow does it feel lonely when you live alone and can't contact home.

Today at school the stereotypical chubby obnoxiously smart kid with glasses said to me (in very good English) "Is it true that you're from LA? And that you were late this morning because of the strike and you live in Paris?" I laughed and said, "Where did you hear that from?" He told me one of his teachers told him that this morning...which makes me wonder who is going around telling kids this, since he was in English when this happened so it had to have been someone from another department. Looks like I set off the rumor mill already. I told him both of those things were true and he said, "What is it like to live in America? Does everyone really have a gun?"

I told him no, but that I do. ;)

The Water is Wide

The last few days have been beautiful, but I have found myself a bit restless. I’ve been exploring my neighborhood and am slowly expanding my territory. I have been going around to parks like Jardin des Plantes and Jardin Luxembourg, and Notre Dame which are all very close to where I live. I sat in the sun yesterday at Jardin Luxembourg and finished The Water is Wide by Pat Conroy, a gift from my CT. “The water is wide” is a good way to describe how far I feel from home right now. I’ve enjoyed myself, but seeing people kissing on park benches all the time is kind of getting to me. Some of them are gross, with their mouths completely open like suckerfish. Bleh. But, some are sweet and it really makes me miss Dave. There are so many things I really want to show him about this city. At least I have time to compile a list of the best things to do before he comes, but it still hurts. He sent me a care package, so now I have my camera finally. He also sent me some Halloween candy and other Halloween stuff to share with my kids at school because they don’t really celebrate Halloween here. I never realized how much I will miss that time of year back home. There are no caramel apples, cider mills, or haunted houses here. Pretty much the only authentic Fall joy that I get to take part in is stepping on crunchy leaves, which I have been doing with reckless abandon to make up for the cider and donuts I’ll be missing out on this year.

Another reason that I am so restless is that I still do not have internet in my room, which makes me feel disconnected not only from home but also from information about Paris, or from my friends here. The family I am working for flew back to the States today because of a family emergency, so it looks like it’ll be a while. I am considering putting a sign on my door that says something like, “Hello neighbors! Have wifi? I’d be willing to pay you to use your network. Inquire within!” There is internet at the family’s apartment but for some reason my computer hates it and refuses to have anything to do with it despite hours of me cajoling and prodding and begging. Hmmph. However, I am able to use their kitchen while they are gone, which is fantastic. I’ve missed cooking.

Tuesday there is a strike scheduled, and I was told that I don’t have to go to school, so I don’t have anything to do except enjoy Paris until orientation on Wednesday.

One thing I have noticed and admire about the French is that they all seem to read quite a bit. When I go running I see them reading on park benches in the sun, on the metro they pull out a book until their stop, they read in cafés while they eat. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that the few televisions I’ve seen here are TINY. Seriously, the kind of thing you see in a college dorm room back home. Either way, I’m not opposed to this equilibrium of entertainment mediums.

Click here to see my photo album of my trip so far. :)

Kelly Diot

Interesting things I’ve seen /done recently:

· A lady taking her dog for a walk IN A STROLLER. Excusez-moi, Madame, but isn’t the point of walking a dog to give it exercise?

· A lady riding her bike down the street singing opera very loudly.

· For kids learning to ride a bike, the French have bikes with handles on the back (kind of similar to the handle of a shovel) so parents can hang on to their tots without having to bend over. Genius.

· The use of “wetback” as a technical term for Mexican immigrants to the U.S., and the term “Taco Belt” for where they migrate to in the textbook my students are reading. Yikes. I don’t want my students visiting the states and horribly offending someone. Going to have a chat with the teacher about that one. In fact, the whole book is strangely written in a way I would never speak. I don’t even think Brits speak that way. For example, they were learning about Thanksgiving and instead of just regular pilgrims they call them the “Pilgrim Fathers.”

· My students have the cutest French accents. One was doing a presentation on Central Park and said, “Ze park is in ze ‘eart of Man’attan. Zere is a big green space. It is splendid and serene.”

· On my way home today I found an awesome bookstore and bought a French copy of the book that the show True Blood is based on. It was an easy read in English. I’m going to try and read a few pages a day to improve my French.

Today we had orientation, which if it were the States, we would have had BEFORE we started school. It was a bit dull. ß Wow, can you tell I’ve been hanging out with Brits? It was all information I would have LOVED to know last week, but now that I’ve been to my school it was fairly redundant. I did get a few good tips and even a free delicious lunch out of it. I met a girl named Sandra that is from Orange County and is here doing a grad program through NYU. I can’t imagine taking five classes on top of being a language assistant. Yikes. I have been eating yogurt every day, it is SO good here. I love it. It is dessert for lunch and dinner. Which I guess makes up for the pastries for breakfast.

I have been going up seven flights of stairs to my room for the exercise. I’ve realized that from a combination of bike riding and running my calves are rock solid, so I figured I would do my derriere some good. J I haven’t seen anyone else on my floor so I have a lot of privacy when I finally reach the top floor wheezing uncontrollably. I love my room, but I’ve kind of been an idiot since I moved in. The first morning I was hurrying down the stairs to leave for work, totally biffed it and missed three steps, falling on my knees on the landing below. I haven’t skinned my knee since I was like seven years old. Maybe being an American in Paris makes you regress to a previous infantile state? That’s how it feels sometimes.

Then, today I needed to send an e-mail to my school about whom I am observing tomorrow before I left or they wouldn’t get it in time to get back to me before tomorrow. There is free internet downstairs so I took my computer out to the street. Of course on the bench outside my front door my computer couldn’t pick up the network I needed, so I ended up squatting on the corner like an idiot precariously balancing my computer on my (injured) knee only to find that I had lost the signal AFTER logging in to my e-mail. Of course I was running late so I ran (okay, I lost some speed toward the top) up seven flights of stairs with my computer. I quickly deposited it in my room and hurried back down, careful to avoid recreating the scene of my accident yesterday only to trip on my way out the front door DIRECTLY in front of a Frenchmen, who smiled at me sympathetically as if to say, “Silly American.” Le sigh. Sometimes my life is like a sitcom that is only not funny to ME because I’m living it.

Stay tuned for the next episode of Stupid American in France! ;)

1000 Years of Annoying the French

I read an article today about Stephan Clarke's new book, 1000 Years of Annoying the French. He said that, "being an expat in Paris can sometimes feel like 'being a lobster in a Breton chef's kitchen.'" Wow, can I ever relate to that. Sometimes it can be very discouraging when people don't even try to understand you in French or are rude. I hate when they switch to English too. However, the majority of the time they are EXTREMELY nice, contrary to Parisian stereotypes.

One interview question in particular stood out to me:

How would you describe the typical French attitude to British people who move to France?

It all depends on whether the British person says "bonjour" or not. If they don't, the French think they're cold, aloof, snobbish and "typiquement anglais". But if they just say the magic word at the start of each conversation, the French love them...It's the only way to be accepted by the French, who prize politeness above all else. It's also wise to refrain from using sentences like "back in the UK, we do it this way" and "but I'm a customer, you HAVE to serve me."

This absolutely rings true for Americans in Paris too. So many Americans come here thinking that the French are cold, snobby, rude, etc., without the least bit of concern for what is rude in the culture that they are visiting. If I had a nickel for every time I heard an American say something along the lines of, "You're in America. Speak English!" I'd have a flight home for Christmas, no problem.

In other news, I had a really fun weekend staying with and catching up with an old friend from high school, Flo. We went to Nuit Blanche, an all night festival where most of the sights are open for free. We got to go to Notre Dame for free. The arched ceilings and the peacful quiet inside always move me.

Speaking of moving, I moved into my apartment last night!! That's right, I stayed in four homes in two weeks, and now finally I'm in my very own little chambre de bonne. It's small (10m squared). They used to be used for maids of wealthy families below to live in. I spent my first evening unpacking EVERYTHING I have and organizing it. Sandra provided everything I need (sheets, towels, utensils, plates, cups, etc.) I am the only one who really lives on the floor, everything else is just an office. I opened my window and peeked out, and was thrilled to discover that I have a stellar view of the Eiffel Tower lit up at night. I kept poking my head out on the hour, when it sparkles for ten minutes. This was worth the wait.

Making Fun of the French

By LEAH HYSLOP

October 5, 2010

Full Article

dans les starting-blocks

I'm sitting in a cafe in Paris waiting for my cafe au lait to cool down and snacking on bread and butter. Rain taps on the window to complete a stereotypical portrait of Paris if Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl" wasn't the soundtrack for such a scene. They play SO much American music here.

On Thursday I went over to Sandra's to get to know Lawrence. At first he was really shy and flat out refused to speak English, and would only nod in affirmation to questions that I asked him, and I am only supposed to speak English with him. Then, his mom left us alone to play. I was riding around the living room on on of those horse head on a stick things when he announced, "In Wall-E, Eve finds the plant and goes like this!" and did an imitation of the robot from one of my favorite movies. After that he was an anglophone chatterbox. He is absolutely adorable. He has chubby, rosy cheeks and huge bright blue eyes. He showed me every toy in his arsenal, including an introduction to each stuffed animal complete with rubbing them on my cheek to show me how soft they were. We played football (soccer for you Americans...I must admit the name is a lot more accurate for a game you play with your feet, not your hands), and built planes with Legos. They were apparently were fire fighting planes because we spent a lot of time putting out fires with it. :)

I had dinner with him (pasta with tomatoes and parmesan). He mimics everything I say and even the noise I make unconsciously when I'm enjoying what I eat...haha. His Dad even said that we seemed to get along well. The shower is done, they just want to have it cleaned before I move in, which is OFFICIALLY MONDAY.

--

Friday I got up and took a train for 30 minutes to the train station in Sainte-Geneviève-des-Bois, and then a 20 minute bus ride from there. The bus didn't call out the stops, so I asked a kid next to me to tell me where the stop was. He was a student going back to visit his teachers so he took me with him.

The school is big, and about 1000 students attend. It is kind of built like a maze so I hope that I don't get lost. I was taken up to a very fashionable secretary, then the principal who took me to the teacher's room. It is huge, with desks everywhere for them to grade papers. I can't figure out exactly what their teaching schedules are because a lot of them were in there most of the day. No one speaks English besides the English teachers and they will only speak French with me because they want me to improve. The first one I met was Fred, a fabulously flamboyant Frenchmen who took me by the elbow and introduced me to everyone. They were all really nice and welcoming. The best part was the lunch. You swipe your i.d. card and then a machine dispenses a tray. Lunch started with an appetizer (for lack of a better word) a goat cheese tartlet or roasted eggplant. Then there were entrees of meat tortellini, fish and roasted veggies, or with mushroom risotto. I had the fish and mushroom risotto to avoid offending anyone. I figured it can't hurt to get extra protein in a land of simple carbs, the quality is a lot better in France. It was DELICIOUS. Then there was fruit or yogurt (which everyone eats for dessert), and then an actual dessert of chocolate or caramel pudding, custard topped with apricot, or baked fruit with whipped cream on top. I asked Odile (who turned out to be a woman and fellow English teacher) about it, and she said that not all schools in France have food this good. They must have a grant or something. I'm excited to eat there on a regular basis. :)

On the way home I sat at the bus stop for about 20 minutes before I realized that the bus doesn't stop at the school between 8:30 and 4:30 for the kids to go to and from school. I walked to a different bus stop and asked TWO people if it went back to the train station, and they both said yes. When I got to the end of the bus route, I realized this was not the case. I asked a little old French man who seemed to know everyone. He said hi to almost everyone on the street and shook hands with the bus drivers. He told me he was going to the train station too, so I could follow him. When we got there he told me three times to go to the opposite platform to get back to Paris to make sure I had it right. When I got to the other side he pointed excitedly at the train when it came. Then, once I got on he grinned ear-to-ear and waved frantically until the train pulled out of the station. Adorable.

Monday I will move into my apartment, Tuesday I go back to my school to observe some classes, and Wednesday we have orientation. Busy week ahead!

Playing the waiting game...

I got a call from Sandra last night saying that I should be able to move in on Thursday or Friday, but I will know for sure this morning. No word yet.

Making contact with my school has made me feel so much better about life in general. I am so grateful to Maja's teacher, Laurence for calling them for me. I have recieved a couple of e-mails from people at the school.

I got this one yesterday:

--

Hi,
Beth just gave us your email address. Welcome in the team, I'm looking forward
to meeting you on Friday. Hope you'll enjoy it.

See you on Friday then

Odile

--

I have no idea if Odile is a male or female, but they're friendly at any rate. I'm heading to the school on Friday morning to meet everyone. I now know exactly how to get there, and there is a bus that goes directly from the train station to my school, which is fantastic. I'm excited to meet everyone, they seem really nice so far.

I mailed in my OFII (

Office Français de l'Immigration et de l'Intégration,

pronounced "oh-fee") paperwork today so that I can legally work in France for seven months. Every little bit of productivity feels good during this waiting period before my real "French life" starts.

I'm supposed to go over and spend some more time with Lawrence, the boy I'm babysitting for, tomorrow as well. Then later I'm meeting up with my friend from high school, Flo, because I think Maja might actually sublet from him because he is heading back to the states. I found a free yoga class on Yelp at 6 so if I can swing that too, I will. Yelp has been an asset here already. It helped us find a fantastic falafel place for my birthday lunch...it was SO good.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately as I walk around Paris. I have been keeping to myself a bit. As creepy as this may sound, I really enjoy listening in on French people's conversations. I like seeing how much of it I can understand. Also, little kids speaking French are probably the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I can't wait to get to know my own little French babysitting charge. As for the French of the adult variety, the worst is when you are having a conversation with a them (ordering food, asking directions, etc.) and they speak really fast, so you ask them to repeat it in French, and then they just switch to English. It's frustrating because I want to keep practicing, but they just want to finish the conversation and if switching to their crappy English will do it, then so be it.

Today I went to the grocery store to buy manila envelopes to send in my immigration paperwork. In French I asked the worker where it would be. She took me, but she told me sorry, they were out. I asked if there was another place nearby that might not have it, or if I should just go to the post office. She said the post office was too expensive, and gave me directions to a different grocery store in the neighborhood.

It is the simplest little exhange and back home wouldn't mean anything to me, but I walked out of the store grinning from ear to ear because I had had an entire conversation without asking anyone to repeat anything, or vice versa. As if I were a French person. Ha. But still. I realized today that that has become my unconscious goal: to fit in. I realize that I will have an American accent in French for a long time, but I have started studying the French as a people the way Jane Goodall studied apes. I want them to think of me as one of them, to blend in, to understand their ways. A French lady asked me where a certain metro stop was today, and I was able to tell her (all in French). Another win! I feel as though I'm learning a lot already, and it's been just over a week.

I'm also getting pretty savvy with the metro. It is such a comprehensive system of transportation. For 1.70 euro you can get to pretty much anything in Paris. Actually, some people don't pay, I've noticed. I've seen a lot of people jumping the turnstyle, and there doesn't seem to be any reprecussions like in New York. Maja told me someone she knew jumped it there and a month later got a ticket in the mail at home. The fact that they can track down the home address of a measly little subway jumper juxtaposed with the fact that the police straight up told me that they will never find my iPod is a little depressing, but I digress. Today my ticket didn't work and a French lady who was already in held the door open for me so I could duck under the turnstyle. Hey, when in Rome. ;)

I'm spending another quiet night in, which I've been enjoying. This apartment is very cozy in the fall weather. The comforter is SO thick! I love snuggling up under it with the book that Agnes recommended to me. I hope to finish it tonight before I leave in the morning.