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...