Last Day of Teaching and the Start of Vacation

My teaching contract ends Saturday, but the schools have been on spring break for the past week and a half, so I have already finished with my many work responsibilities. The last week on teaching was sad, but a lot of fun, as my teachers decided to have parties (goutés) for my send-off. My last two days were laden with cakes and cookies and a surprising number of varieties of orange juice. One of my teachers even made a cake with my name on it (but more importantly with chestnut filling...yum city)! My littlest kids got together and sang Old McDonald Had a Farm for me - my calisthenics lesson paid off, I suppose. I can't say that the littlest ones really understood what was going on, however. They repeatedly told me that when I came back next fall they would be in CE1 (2nd grade) and a new student whom I had never seen before came up and gave me a kiss and told me she'd miss me. On the other hand, they gave me many drawings and big hugs and kisses. The best drawing I got was a cityscape that had a stick figure with a speech bubble standing in front of the bridge. What was he saying? "Waow, c'est beau!" Indeed, Noah, indeed. Some of my older kids got me Easter chocolates and flowers, one even painted my name onto an Easter egg. It was all very sweet and it made me very happy, but obviously very sad to say goodbye.

Luckily, I was leaving the next day for Morocco, so I didn't have that much time to be too sad. Early Saturday morning, I left Le Havre and flew to Tangier, where I met my friend from Wash U, Michael. He is teaching English in Madrid right now. Anyway, we walked around the medina, got lost a few times, and stopped for my first thé à la menthe of the trip. Tangier wasn't my favorite place I've ever been, but it was fun and I got to eat some good grilled fish. Always a plus, eh? The next day we caught a bus to Chefchaouen, a small town in the mountains. On the way there, I was struck by how lush that part of Morocco was. Based on ignorance, I had assumed we would be in a much more arid landscape. Oops! Sorry, anthropology degree, for not doing my research! Chefchaouen is visually very striking because everything in the medina is painted blue. Everything. Apparently, the old (and now non-existent) Jewish population introduced this technique as a method of insect control. The cool blue contrasted with the green of the mountains is really calming and beautiful, as you can imagine.

Upon arriving, Michael and I had our first encounter with freelance guides. Almost anytime we looked lost or held up any kind of map or guidebook, locals would come up and offer to direct us. It was always extremely friendly, and usually helpful, but sometimes, the young men helping us would turn themselves into freelance guides (who demanded a tip and complained when it wasn't high enough) and we got harmlessly scammed a few times. Part of the experience, right? Mostly, it made for good stories, and sometimes we got to see parts of town that we otherwise wouldn't have ventured into. The best was when someone told us the kasbah of Rabat was about to close (at 3 pm) and directed us down an alley, telling us it was the only way to the ocean. In said alley, his partner picked us up and took us on a loooong winding tour of the kasbah, then complained when we only had 10 dh in coins to give him. The tour was in Spanish. Also, people live in the kasbah, so I don't know why we believed that it could close....

I digress: A freelance guide helped us find our hostel and then chose to wait outside of it for an hour, so he could try and sell us things when we were ready to start exploring. Michael and I walked all around the medina, checking out the crafts (lots of loom work going on), drinking tea, and eating tagines. By sunset, the clouds were below the mountain peaks, and things got even more beautiful. All in all, a great beginning to a trip.

To be continued, I promise!

Poisson d'Avril!

If people were wondering at what age kids seem to enjoy April Fools related pranks most, I can give them the answer: 9-10. In France, they call the "holiday" Poisson d'Avril, though nobody could tell me how fish got involved. My older kiddos were going crazy cracking themselves up with hilarious and clever pranks such as taking the notebooks of another class, switching seats while the teachers weren't looking, etc. The classic French prank is to take a paper fish and tape it to an unsuspecting citizen's back. One of my students got me with this one, which made me really happy, actually. I like being able to participate in their kid world.

I only have 2 weeks left in the classroom, which is something of a shock, because it doesn't feel like it's ending, since for everyone else at my schools, it's not. The kids are in school until June so nobody seems super aware of the fact that I stop getting paid pretty soon. In an ideal world, the teachers I work with would be informed by my contact person of the dates when our contracts end. In fact, I'm 99.99999% certain that this falls under her umbrella of responsibilities. Surprise, surprise, this hasn't happened. Luckily, I discovered this the traditional 2 weeks in advance, so I've been telling my teachers. Otherwise, I'm realizing that I would have just been disappearing without notice.

Before thinking about what's next, I will fill you in on what happened since my last posting. I went to Lyon with my friend Michael, from Wash U. He is living in Madrid right now doing the same program as me. I had visited Lyon once before with my parents and sister, and I remembered really enjoying it, so I was anxious to go back. Lyon is known as the gastronomic capital of France, which I think we'd all agree is an impressive title to carry. Michael and I made sure to take advantage of this by tasting all kids of weird animal dishes. Ok, that sounds disgusting. But it wasn't! Lyonnais cuisine just happens to be filled (in a good way) with organs you don't find very often on the menus of restaurants in America. We also rented bikes one day and rode along the Rhone river and through the big city park. The highlight/weirdest part must have been when we stumbled upon the Miniature museum. Yep, this is a museum filled with miniature dioramas. Miniature chairs, miniature desks, miniature food, miniature 70s style living rooms, miniature dilapidated theaters. Worth forgoing the Musée des Beaux Arts? Probably. If nothing else, it was definitely the weirdest museum I've been to in a long time. I recommend it.