That time I got Trench Foot in Strasbourg

Earlier this evening I returned to Le Havre after an epic day of train delays and slow moving TGVs. I had a really really great time in Alsace with Nichole, which turned into something of a culinary tour, due to inclement weather. Early Saturday morning we packed up and headed to Strasbourg, where we caught a train to Séléstat, a nearby town. Séléstat has a population of about 18,000 people and is on the Alsatian Wine Route. Historically, the town is famous because it was academic center of the Holy Roman Empire, AND because it was home to the first recorded Christmas tree in Europe in 1521. Nichole and I spent our time there wandering the Marchés de Noel and trying to find food. Warning: DO NOT try to find an open kitchen in France between 2:30 and 7:00. All your efforts will be futile and people will look at you like you are straight out of the nuthouse if you ask if they know of any place that might be open.

Séléstat was pretty charming, despite the lack of food, and we were able to check out the very old churches there, as well as see an exhibit on the history of the Christmas tree, most of which I've forgotten by now. I can guarantee it was interesting, though.

The next day, we headed back to Strasbourg for the rest of our Alsatian vacation. Our first night, we happened upon an ENORMOUS marché de noel with every type of vendor imaginable. You could get anything from choucroute pockets to vin chaud to boudin noir to paté en croute to boots to mittens to Baby Milo sweatshirts (all my students wear these. Evidently, Baby Milo is a young cartoon monkey that can play baseball, among other things, and he is always in sequins. I have never seen a non-sequined Baby Milo. Also, it's just the boys who wear these. I don't get it). After exhausting the market we headed to a bar called the 12 Apotres right next to the cathedral for some local flavor. German beer is so good!

Monday was really when the adventure started when we woke up to find that it was snowing. Heavily. We had planned a whole walking tour through the city, but we only made it 5 minutes before we were soaked and had puddles in our shoes (and so began my trench foot). Instead of winding through old streets looking at half-timbered houses and canals we had no other option but to go into the cathedral to sit and try and dry off. We got kicked out 5 minutes later, however, because you have to pay to be inside with the astronomical clock goes off, and I couldn't think of a way to justify doing that. Incidentally, I still can't. Is it just me or is the church trying to nickel and dime some tourists? Anyway, still a little bit miserable, we couldn't think of anything else to do but check out a salon de thé to warm up and have some bouche de noel. It was very ladies who lunch of us. Importantly, this is how our culinary tour began. Wanting to avoid the bad weather and trying to give my worsening trench foot a fighting chance to go away, we hopped from restaurant to restaurant and from to winstub to tea house. The next stop on Monday was a place advertising tarte flambée, a local specialty. It's basically a matzoh crust pizza, but made with creme fraiche, bacon, and onions, instead of sauce and cheese. After our two meals we wandered into the Musée Alsacien, which was great. The museum showcased Alsatian life up until about 1900, from the house to the religion to clothing, to cultural traditions. Fun fact: Alsatian Christmas used to involve Hans something or other, a hooded man who looks EXACTLY like the grim reaper who appears to scare bad children. These people weren't joking around. I literally jumped when I walked into the room and saw him. Coal doesn't seem so bad now!

Monday's culinary tour ended with a very fancy dinner at the Maison Kammertzal, where Nichole and I tried choucroute for the first time. Choucroute is THE regional dish, so I would have felt bad if I had left without trying it, but it is decidedly not my thing. When I was in Germany a few years ago I remember feeling like I was having meat sweats from a constant diet of wurst, and this dish brought me way too close to that feeling. The plate is heaped with sauerkraut and then topped with about 3 sausages - including boudin noir - three pieces of ham, and some other cuts of unidentifiable cuts of pig. Nichole and I definitely struggled with this one and were astonished to see everyone else in the restaurant just putting it away. People cleared their plates!

Tuesday, the weather switched to rain from snow. My shoes still hadn't dried from the night before, and I could hear water swishing around in them. Trench foot! Regardless, we walked around La Petite France, a small island right next to the old city (which is also an island). La Petite France was originally the craft-center of the city where the tanners lived and set up shop. Very quaint, very charming, very old! Now onto the important stuff: what we ate for lunch. This was definitely the best meal of the trip. We chose a winstub with a COMPLETELY illegible handwritten menu (a good sign, I think). Ordering was kind of like Russian roulette, since we could only make out about a third of the description of most of the offerings. I wound up with an entrée of super fresh and tender herring over potatoes à l'huile. SO GOOD. It was almost like being at Zabar's! For the plat, Nichole and I both had boar stew with spaetzle. It was super tender and savory and delicioussssss. If you are ever in Alsace, go eat at Le Pont du Corbeau! The rest of the day was spent trying to walk off our heavy lunch, which isn't to say that we didn't stop for cake and coffee when our feet hurt from being so cold and wet...

All in all, the trip was great. The people we met were very nice and warm and excited to speak French with us. And the food was amazing! The only downside was the weather and having to sacrifice a pair of boots. The rest of my vacation will be spent in Le Havre and Paris with my family. I can't wait!

P.S. I'm uploading photos of the trip now - please check them out!

Vacation!

Off to Alsace to get my German influence on!!!

What a bordel

Let's do a short recap of the many surprises I've encountered through my teaching experience, ok?
1) Gym teacher
2) Teaching in ZEP schools (who remembers that time I saw a gun?)
3) Having a schedule filled with so many incorrect phantom hours that I spent days sitting in the hallway of one of my schools.

Yesterday, I was asked to attend a meeting about the "sports day" project that, according to the head of my school district, is my lifeblood. (Really? This is what you think is why I came to France? This is what you think is going to turn language education around? Don't complain to me that the French are "nulle" in English and then ask me to translate a PE unit on badminton.) Thinking that my presence was requested so that I could contribute my ideas, I arrived at the meeting with an open mind, despite my opinion of "sports day" - my opinion being that it's a huge waste of time. No such luck. Instead, I was informed that I would be taking on 4 collège classes (middle school - yeah, not so much a part of my contract or training) at a rough school, where I am now both an English teacher AND a gym teacher. This is in addition to my 7 other English classes at the primary level. Let's start with the obvious frustrations: I'm contracted as a primary teacher, which means all my training, support, and resources are for students aged 6-10. Demanding that I teach collège, which operates under a different organization, has its own assistantship program, etc., is pretty blatantly illegal, which I tried to point out. Furthermore, it's totally beyond what I am capable of or trained to do. However, trying to express my concerns to the administration quickly proved futile, as they cast aside all my concerns and questions in a snap. Fantastic.

The problem of the total lack of communication in the education world seems like a pretty common one in the education systems in both France and the United States, so please excuse me as I briefly wax philosophical about the issue. The administration and the schools exist in two separate universes, and communication between the two is both limited and one-sided. I haven't seen much in the way of exchange of ideas or issue-ownership in either country. Instead, the administration goes to the school with a list of demands, and the schools just nod and smile, because they know that their complaints will fall on flat ears. They resent the administration and figure out how to distance themselves so they can remain sane. Ugh.

Enough of that - time to talk about the good. Today was the choral performance for the older students at one of my schools (aka the 3rd through 5th graders). The last song was "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." Hey, did anyone know that this song continued after "Good tidings this Christmas and a Happy New Year?" I certainly did not. But I did laugh a lot hearing them sing "Please breeeng uhs somme feeeeggy poooooding;" that was amazing. Also, last Friday I taught "Jingle Bells" to one of my 5th grade classes, and I was amazed at how quickly they got it and how well they were singing. Well, turns out the French have a carol to the same tune. I was standing to the side watching with the other teachers, and the students from that class kept shooting me looks like, "see, 'annah? Joke's on you." Let's just say that it was a hilarious and humbling experience. One of my students also gave me like 5 Hama bead thingies today in a large envelope that said "Pour Toi, Ana!"

Vacation on Saturday!

Highlight of the Day

At the end of the 2-hour lunch break I headed into the schoolyard to socialize with some of my students. The brave ones run up and grab my hand/arm/coat (usually the younger ones), while the older ones giggle and keep a safe distance. Usually they ask me questions which I respond to in English, prompting many a "QUOI? QU'EST-CE QU'ELLE A DIT? CA VEUT DIRE QUOI???" many laughs, and lots of blushing. Others run up and shout "ELLO WASS YOUR NAME?" and then run away cackling. Well, today, Lucas came up to me with a notebook and asked me to write any word in English for him. "Any word? No requests?" N'importe. Wanting to be careful and diplomatic and whatever, I wrote 'school,' which he read back to me, clearly understanding its meaning. I turned my attention back to the 6 year olds playing marbles (seems like they're 50 years late to the table, right?). A particular 6 year old showed me all the marbles he had won from a peer as if he was letting me in on some big secret and another said "Hannah, tell us how to say marbles in English again! Tell us!" Nobody can make you feel cooler than a 6 year old. It's official.

Anyway, a gaggle of 10 year old girls approached me - they never talk to me outside of class alone, who else would they laugh with when I speak English? - and asked, "Hannah, why did you write 'I love you, Lucas' in his notebook?" What?

First of all, how did they see the word 'school' and believe that it could possible say 4 words? I know they can read. And my American print handwriting, while different from the scarily universal French cursive, is hardly THAT illegible to them. Second of all, did Lucas really think that this would work? He was counting on a lot of things happening for that one to go off without a hitch. Unfortunately, he was right in assuming that they would believe him.

Socializing

Get ready for this shocking news: for the first time in Le Havre, I had a weekend filled with social activity with French people! Finally, after two months of being here, I feel like I'm starting to break in to some circles. Friday night, one of the teachers I work with invited me over for dinner. Two other teachers got invited as well, as did her son and some of his friends. It was really really lovely, and I felt so grateful to be let in. We had raclette and the host baked me a cheesecake because it comes from NY! So nice! Afterwards, I went out to a soirée with the son and his friends (which is when I ironically danced. That still burns).

Saturday night, the two other assistants from my circonscription and I got invited to a dinner party with the group that had first introduced me to raclette. This time, they made tacos. Definitely different from the ones you get in the "New World," but a nice reminder of home, nonetheless. I felt a little more awkward at this soirée, but I suppose that's normal. I really appreciated being included, I just wish I could express myself better!

But wait! The fun does not stop there: Sunday afternoon I was invited to attend a lunch at Nichole's house. Well, it's really the house of our inspectrice. There, I had foie gras, tried boudin noir (look it up...not really my thing, but interesting to taste), bread baked with chorizo bits in it, grilled goose, and homemade chocolate mousse. Oooh, listing everything I ate this weekend makes me really think I need to go on a long run or risk heart attack...yikes.

Oops

I accidentally ironically danced way too soon after meeting some people.

More on that story later...

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving holiday last week. No turkey and cranberries for me, but we made do with chicken and mashed potatoes.

This weekend I went to Paris with Nichole to take a small break from Le Havre. We stayed with Nichole's quasi-host sister in her apartment in the 11e arrondissement, right by the Bastille, which is, of course, home to the July Column. She was a super gracious and lovely host, and very ready to play tourist with us. Naturally, my first priority of the trip was food. Le Havre is fairly devoid of any and all ethnic food, at least in the neighborhood I live in. Evidently, there are some sushi places hidden around, but I haven't seen any Asian people, so I'm slightly skeptical. Saturday, I made sure to get my falafel in the Marais, and then left the rest of the planning of the afternoon up to Nichole and Giovanna. Other culinary hits of the weekend included Chinese food, pizza, challah bread, and sweet potatoes. Ok, so listed like that, it sounds like I'm just a college student, but doesn't the sheer fact that this food was made in France somehow make it more...gourmet? Eh? On a cultural note, we visited the Sacre Coeur and Pere Lachaise, and walked through a great deal of the city center. I'll never understand people who don't like Paris.

In weather news, it's officially winter here. We're talking below freezing and snowing. Yuck.

Finally, I have to stop and say RIP Leslie Nielsen. Heidi, my roommate, has never seen Airplane! so I'm making her watch that tonight as a way to honor his memory. In retrospect, when she told me that she'd never seen it, I should have said "Surely you must be joking!" instead of "WHAT?!" Ah, well.

Things that have recently happened to me

1) I moved! Freedom from the YMCA tastes sweet! And, it smells less like mildew, which is always a plus in my book. My friend Heidi found us a flat on the top floor of a really adorable old French couple's house (who call us 'eidi and 'annah). There is a garden and we have our own kitchen, and it's just really great. I've been really loving being able to cook in a clean and private space, not to mention the fact that I am now allowed to have wine! To take full advantage of this, my first night I cooked a wine-soaked meal: coq au vin, pears poached in red wine, and Heidi made vin chaud. Yum city.

2) I went to Etretat, which was breathtakingly beautiful. It used to be a fishing village, but I'm pretty sure tourism is the biggest industry now. However, it felt much more real to me than Honfleur did; I could believe that people actually lived in the town. Maybe it was because there was only one postcard shop and only one rack of key chains with names on them. Interestingly, Etretat was made famous by impressionist painters and writers, like Monet and Maupassant. Heidi and I walked around for a while, climbed to the top of the falaises, and had some delicious crepes, to boot. As Heidi put it, it almost made me want to learn about geology. But not quite.

3) I realized how ridiculous so many of my days are. Friday, for example, I spent close to 2 straight hours singing "Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes." I was out of breath by the time lunch rolled around and quite red in the face. My strategy with these little ones was to use flashcards to teach them the parts of the body and then move on to singing. I quickly learned that this was not going to work. For some reason, any image I showed them prompted them to say "eye." No, Auguste, it's NOT an eye, it's an ARM. No, Céline, not an eye, a NOSE. When flashcards weren't working I thought maybe drawing would help, but I was wrong. "Draw an arm," I would say pointing to the picture and pointing to my own arm. "Do you understand?" Despite their cheerful "oui, 'annah!"s, I looked around to see them totally confused. "I think she want's us to draw an eye," I heard them saying to one another. "Oh, ok, yeah, that makes sense." One of the kids was deep into a cityscape that centered around an eye before I stopped them and told them to put everything away. One girl stood up to collect all the markers, prompting others to cry out against the grave injustice that had just been committed. "It's not her turn to collect the markers! It's his! It's his!" The class was descending into chaos, as some of them had started standing up to pull on my shirt in an effort to beg me to do something about the marker duty-thief. "I don't care!" I responded, "We're going to sing, and it's going to be FUN!"

In my next class of first-graders, I didn't even take anything out of my bag; I went straight for the song...and I got into it. When I jumped around, they did too, and believe it or not, they were able to learn the song. Well, the rhythm, at least. When their teacher came back, she joked that I was teaching gym class. Little does she know...

Next week, it's going to be all Hand Turkeys, all the time. Whether they like it or not. I was hoping I could combine my lessons on colors and parts of the body for this little project, but I'm less sure now. Only time will tell!

On food...

It certainly wouldn't be profound of me to pontificate about the delicious qualities of French food, but I've seen enough things here that just wouldn't fly in the States to make me want to blog about it. I started thinking about this on Wednesday, when I went with my friend Nichole to the French equivalent of a fondue party. There were about 10 of us who got together for a dinner party at this kid named Maxime's apartment. Upon arriving, we learned that we would be eating raclette, and that's where the adventure began.

Raclette is made with special "raclette machines," which are basically hot plates with little trays in them. Everyone takes a tray, puts a piece of "pungent" cheese in/on it, and then shoves the tray back into its slot. When the cheese is browned and bubbling, you take it and pour it on prosciutto, saucisson, potatoes, etc. I don't think I've ever consumed so much prosciutto in one sitting, but I'd like to try again. Amazingly, the French people ate nearly twice what Nichole and I could hold down. I don't get it! Consider me sold on raclette...

In other food news, I would like to describe what "school lunch" means to these people. No chicken nuggets, no hamburgers, no pizza - instead, we eat steak frites, moussaka, and cassoulet. Also the meal is served family style, and on real plates. To start, there is some kind of salad, and not iceberg with ranch dressing. Last Friday, it was beet salad. It's pretty amazing to watch what comes out of the kitchens there.

Also of note, you can buy a bag on individually wrapped crab legs, just for when you're on the go and can't do without seafood. It comes with a little tub of mayonnaise, too!

Ah, la belle France!

Espana! Home of the all ham diet!

Holy moly, it's been a really long time since I've updated this thing! The most notable event since my last posting was my first vacation. Yup, after working for three weeks, I got 10 days off for Toussaint - All Saints' Day. In total, I get 7.5 weeks off, thanks to the amazing school break calender here. Sorry to all my friends working 12 hour days at home who get only Christmas and New Year's Day! I'll be thinking of you!

I chose to spend this break in Spain, even though my Spanish knowledge is limited to "Si ves algo, di algo," from the subway posters. I flew into Barcelona for a few days of solo sightseeing. Barcelona was beautiful and warm, and the people were very friendly. I hit all the major touristy sites, including the Sagrada Familia, and Parc Guell. My greatest achievement was getting the EU discount at the Picasso Museum by speaking French to the guy at the welcome desk. Holla! The Gaudi architecture was really cool to see (obviously), and I was excited to see the sun and walk around in a t-shirt. I also ate many tapas, of course.

Next I took an overnight bus to Madrid to meet my friend Michael, who graduated with me from Wash U. He graciously agreed to host me for the weekend in his sweet apartment right off of Gran Via. There, I continued my strict regime of binge eating ham products. Delicious. Unlike in Barcelona, where I was alone, I went out to some clubs and "experienced nightlife" in Madrid. On Saturday we decided to celebrate Halloween and went out in costume until 8:30 am. Not too many others were dressed up, and Michael got called out on wearing green and gold. Who knew those didn't go together? The 8:30 am thing was tough for me - I won't lie. It was really fun to get to see friends from Wash U (additional shout out to Miranda for hosting me one night!), and of course, to take a break from my extremely strenuous work schedule.

Getting back to France, I had to go straight to my immigration appointments in Rouen, which involved a LOT of waiting. For some reason, something like 40 of us were scheduled for appointments at the same time and only one doctor was available to see us. What? Inefficiency in France? Quelle choque! Luckily, the doctor couldn't have been sweeter, which made up for the waiting. Also, I forced my friends to play lots of 20 questions with me while waiting, and it turns out that that game is still fun.







Back in Le Havre, back to work!

Ca va quand meme?

Quelle semaine! I don't know where to begin about everything that has happened to me in the past few days. Monday morning I was on the bus on the way to Mont Gaillard, the neighborhood where my schools are, sitting and thinking about what a nice weekend I had, and how I was finally starting to feel a little bit normal. Sun shining, oiseaux chirping, etc. When I turned the corner onto the street where the school is located, however, I saw two young men talking/arguing. When I got closer (probably about 20 feet away), I saw one of the men get on his knees and put his hands in the air. Then I noticed that the other man was holding a gun. I turned right around and walked as quickly and as quietly as I could away. I've never felt so terrified, and I'm still a little shaken up. (If you want to make me feel better, email me about your lives!!! hannah.mullman@gmail.com do ittttt)

My friends here and the inspectrice have been really nice and supportive, even if my contact person's initial response was to ask if I was sure that it wasn't a police officer holding the gun. Thanks.

ANYWAY, the greve continues. Here is an article about the situation courtesy of my mother: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/20/world/europe/20france.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&emc=eta1

Also, for the record, 1 jar of nutella down, how many more to go?

Day Trippin'

This weekend, I went on not one, but TWO day trips. I know, I know, I'm really outdoing myself out here. Saturday I went to Honfleur with some of the other English assistants. Honfleur is a small and picturesque fishing village about a half hour away from Le Havre. It's very touristy, but as usual, there's a reason for this. Some fun facts about Honfleur: it was the port from which French explorers left to go on and "discover" Quebec City and, drum roll please....the Mississippi River! History! It's happening all around us! Anyway, it was really really beautiful, and very fun to get out of Le Havre and play tourist. Then that night I went over to Nichole's house to make a delicious shrimp and avocado salad, complete with local cider. Yum. After eating we went upstairs and chatted for a while with Nichole's quasi-host sister and her maybe ex-boyfriend/current boyfriend (hard to say) about politics, American culture (aka movies and tv shows), French universities, and Paris. They gave us some Calvados, a local specialty, to try. It's a very strong apple brandy that's called a digestif because you're supposed to drink it in between courses/after a meal to cut through all the grease you just ate. Normand food is very buttery, creamy, and cheese-filled. Taking a few shots of alcohol could only help the heart, n'est-ce pas? It was a very fun and relaxed night.

Today Nichole and I went to Rouen for the Fete du Ventre et de la Gastronomie, aka Festival of the Stomach and Gastronomy. Never would I ever skip an event with such a title. We walked through the crowded streets of the old city (beautiful and charming) and tried samples of foie gras, onion jam, sausage, and cheese. Basically I took any sample I could get. Then we made a picnic lunch of Neufchatel, which is an amazing heart-shaped cheese, a garlic infused salami, baguette, and pear cider. Yum city. Oh, and a nutella crepe, of course.

All in all, a very successful weekend, I think.

La greve, la greve, toujours la greve...

Wouldn't you know it, but all this week there's been a strike here in France. Quelle surprise! That never happens here! Sarcasm! The French are very upset that Sarkozy raised the retirement age up from 60 and have, predictably, decided to strike. Because of this, my first week of real teaching has been a wee bit messed up. My favorite part about European strikes is that they are planned ahead of time and they come with clearly marked start and end times. To me, it doesn't really seem like there's much incentive to compromise if you know that your workers will stop striking tomorrow, but what do I know. Anyway, Tuesday I was supposed to go to Rouen for training, but the greve prevented this from happening, and I had to stay in Le Havre. Interestingly, this means that I have had zero training to date.

Yesterday I found myself caught in the middle of a very rowdy youth demonstration, and I won't lie, it was terrifying. I was walking to catch the bus to get to Mt. Gaillard, the neighborhood where I work, when all of the sudden a crowd of high schoolers chanting Seven Nation Army turned the corner and started marching towards me. It was a little tough to take seriously, given the song and the age of the demonstrators, but then I noticed that they were knocking sings over, throwing barricades into the street, and throwing things everywhere. Eeeek! When I got on the bus, they came up to it, pounded on the windows with sticks, and lay/stood in front of it so that the driver couldn't proceed. For a moment, I thought that it maybe wasn't the safest idea to stay on the bus, but then I remembered that if I wasn't there to teach gym in English, the French kids would have to take gym in French and that didn't sit right with me. Maybe I'm just being cynical, but as someone who was in high school not so long ago, I'm going to weigh in and say that these kids were just trying to miss class. Maybe it was Seven Nation Army, maybe it was the fact that they were all carrying Longchamp bags and holding Blackberries, maybe it was something else, but it seemed to me that they were being unnecessarily destructive.

La vie jacobine!

Settling in....?

Bonjour, readers of America! I've been in Le Havre for a week now, so things are slooooowwwwwlllyyyyy starting to fall into place. I still don't have a set schedule or routine, but I can see one on the horizon. Since I last wrote, I made some friends, explored a bit, and got a taste of my working life here.

Over the weekend I ran into some other English assistants at the YMCA, so we organized a dinner in town and got to know each other better. It was fun, and obviously great to meet some people my age. So far, I've met assistants from the States, the UK, and Australia. I saw some of the same girls later in the weekend for a coffee by the beach. There, I had my first weird food experience when I accidentally ate a gizzard salad. I didn't recognize the word for gizzard in French, but I went for it anyway, because the waitress said it was yummy. When the plate arrive, it instantly became clear that I was about to eat gizzards. Which I did. And they weren't bad!

Monday we went to Rouen (the administrative capital of Haute-Normandie) for an administrative kind of day. I thought we were going to be trained in how to teach English. But no. We filled out paperwork all day. I'm going to get so good at filling out paperwork by the end of this; the W-4 won't know what hit it. For the moment, my paperwork appears to be complete, though I the French keep telling me that I can never be sure. Also it's become clear that I will be receiving zero training, which is part humorous, part horrifying.

Tuesday I FINALLY found out what schools I will be teaching at, and Janick (my contact) took Faye (assistant from Michigan), Nichole (assistant from California), and myself on a tour. We visited the 8 schools we will be working at (2 for Faye and myself, 4 for Nichole. Incidentally, it is explicitly against the rules to work at more than 3 schools.) More surprises for me! I have been posted at high-priority/low performance/bad behavior schools. Honestly, the worst thing about this is that the schools are in the banlieus which are a loooong commute from the city center. When Janick told me they were farther out, my first thought was that they were going to be very fancy, but then I remembered that that is not how French city planning goes. The biggest plus: so many West African kiddies! Tuesday night I was kind of a big stressball though, but a lot of that came from the many hours I was assigned as a teacher for "Sportsday." Aka gym. (Evidently, my roles in this project include shouting words like "run" and "jump" at a mob of crazy 10 year-olds. Really France? That's what you want to use me for?)

Today I did some observation in one of my schools, and I loved it, even though I will mostly be doing "sportsday" there. The staff was extremely warm and welcoming and excited to have us there. Except for the "sportsday" teacher. He seemed just as confused as I am about why on earth I was there to "intervenir" in such a subject. Incidentally, another teacher actually wants me to teach English with her, so I'm going to try and get my schedule changed around, despite Janick's best efforts to keep me in "sportsday." And she is putting a lot of effort into it.

My first reactions to French elementary schools are really positive from my one day in the classroom. The teacher we were with was super progressive and into group projects and learning for learning's sake, etc. and the interest the kids have in our presence seems promising. One brave girl came up to Nichole and myself and asked where we were from. When I said New York, her response was to gasp "Oh! La chance!" A-dor-a-ble. Another red headed girl was less brave, and simply turned around in her chair to stair at us. For over an hour.

Tomorrow I will do observation in my other school, which seems pretty rough around the edges. Afterwards, I head to Paris to get my LSAT on. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

A la prochaine!

Arrival

I've been in France for a couple of days now, and unfortunately, I can't say my transition has gone entirely seamlessly. After flying from JFK to Paris, I took a cab to a train station to begin my journey to Le Havre. It turns out I waaaaayyy overestimated how long everything would take and I found myself with 5 hours to kill. Due to my 3 bags, I couldn't really move anywhere so sat down on the ground as soon as I was close enough to the tracks. Waiting was fine, except for the fact that I think a pigeon touched me. I am not kidding when I say that I think Hitchcock was onto something...I'm waiting for the day when "The Birds" really does happen. In any event, I made it onto the train and promptly fell asleep. For some reason, I thought I saw that the train was only making three stops (Le Havre being the last), so by the time we were at the third, I woke up, saw everyone standing up and getting their things, and I hurried off. When the train starting pulling away from the station, my bachelor's degree helped me deduce that this was not, in fact, the last stop. I was not in Le Havre, but in a small, rural town. And, to add insult to injury, as I had this epiphany, it started to rain. Luckily,there was a man from my car who graciously helped me out. I explained to him that someone was waiting for me at the Le Havre station, but didn't have her number, and he actually took the time to talk to the agent in the station, get one of his friends to look up my contact's number in the white pages, and call her. So nice!

I got to Le Havre on the next train, got picked up, and made it to the UCGJ (YMCA in French). My living accommodations leave a lot to be desired, and are probably causing the most stress for me right now. I'm essentially in a freshman dorm with way more rules, way more dirt, and way more mildew smell than Lee, my dorm at Wash U. Also the mattress recalls my Malian mattress too closely. I would like to move, but just one day here has shown me that everything in France is controlled by rules and paperwork and more rules. There even appear to be rules saying that I have to stay here (at the Y) for 2 months, the logical basis of which I cannot figure out. At the moment, the thought of applying to rent an apartment seems pretty daunting. Another roadblock to moving is money. Holy cow, Europe is NOT cheap. But also, because of paperwork and processing, etc. I won't get paid until the end of November, something that would never fly in the States.

Anyway, we spent all of yesterday filling out paperwork in various offices throughout the city of Le Havre. I found out a teensy tiny bit about my work responsibilities, as well, though they are subject to change. Did I mention that I start next week? As of now, I will not only be doing the English thing, but I am evidently going to be a sports teacher. Yep. It's unclear to me whether that means I'll be teaching sports in English or just teaching English sports vocabulary. Either way, I don't really think I'm qualified to do this. Time to invest in polyester track suits and a DVD of the Giants winning the Superbowl.

And now, time to end on high notes:

The two other assistants I met are really nice. I hope to get to know them better, and I imagine that I will.

At the moment, it looks like I will not be working on Fridays.

Normandy is the home of Camembert and other cheeses.

More to come soon...I look forward to your emails (not so subtle hint).

Less than 12 hours to go...

Instead of tackling the remaining tasks I have to accomplish before my departure, I thought it would be a good idea to write my first ever blog post. I'm heading to the airport in just a few hours, and I really don't have a clue about what to expect. Major worries include wondering how I'll be able to carry all my luggage, and where I will sleep when I do eventually arrive in Le Havre. Evidently, my contact DOES have somewhere to take me, which is a major relief, because until about 5 minutes ago, I was thinking I was going to have to wing it. The YMCA will become my new home sweet home, at least until I can find an apartment of my own.

Getting ready for this adventure has been a looooong process, so it doesn't seem real that I'm actually leaving. I have a late flight tonight, then a train from Paris to Le Havre tomorrow evening. More to come when I arrive!* Please keep in touch and write me emails and stuff. I like emails.

*Hopefully, it will be more interesting.