Faites-moi un MAX DE BRUIT!!!

Loosely translated « Make Some Noissssse ! »

It was no UD Timothy’s Bar & Grill, but it was a bizarrely wonderful evening at Hangars Bananes with DJ’s shouting this phrase.

Un Max de Bruit is what happened in some of my classrooms this past week.

My friend and I made a Max de Bruit when we saw a man with his finger stuck in the tram door.

… all in all a good theme for the week

What’s been going on in Nantes/Rezé/Bouaye you say? Well I’m officially out of my little “womp womp I’m homesick mood”.  And here’s what else:

This is a real life metro sign in Paris, not in Nantes

Let’s just start with the tram incident shall we? My friend I were walking through the tram looking for a place to sit, happened to glance at a door we were walking past, and saw a little finger attempting to wiggle its way free. The man outside the door with his finger stuck appeared quite calm, held books or something in his other hand, and was smoking. The tram started to leave the stop. The man ran next to the tram because he could not free his finger from the door! We pulled the emergency stop handle. The man freed himself and ran off. We then had to explain to the conductor that we were not just joking, that this event had really happened, and that the disappearance of this man was as big a mystery to us as it was to her. 

The alluring glowy rings of Hangar Bananes

German birthday celebrations were fantastic and took us to the elusive and mysterious Hangar Bananes. We walked for about 30 minutes to get there… which is good because earlier in the night we were eating birthday cake that looks like this …  The bar we wandered into was some sort of Reggae bar, and I think I recognized the Jamaican flag from Cool Runnings. Someone else said it was South Africa’s flag. We may never know what kind of music we were actually dancing to. Like I said… a bizarrely wonderful evening. 

I saw a wild hedgehog in the field next to my building. It. Was. Awesome.

The man at the kebab shop asked me if I wanted a rewards card. Perhaps I should lay off the kebabs for awhile.

I used the new Twilight movie trailer as an introduction in my “Hollywood” classes. The girls were fou for it. Who doesn’t love a good steamy vampire-human-werewolf love triangle? 15 year old French boys that’s who. They were quite displeased with my choice.

I told students to get into groups of three for an activity. When they stared at me blankly and did nothing I told them in French to get into “équipes (teams) de trois”. They giggled uncontrollably & there was an awful moment where I feared I had referenced a sexual threesome. (I know the expression is obviously ménage à trios… but there’s a lot of slang I don’t know as well). Upon asking French foyer residents they confirmed that I did not say anything inappropriate and that students were giggling because that is what 15 year olds do.

I threatened 3 different classes multiple times to stop class and do grammar exercises because of the noise level. (I also just embarrassed noisy kids by making them move to sit by me). I hate grammar. (my classes are meant to be primarily conversation classes, so the students can “profiter” from a native speaker). There is only one class I dislike enough for this grammar threat to perhaps become a reality.  But I hate grammar so much maybe I will just tell their teacher that they are noisy loud disruptive students.

My older kids took a “Are you a Democrat or Republican” quiz to start off our discussion of American politics. They were Democrats. Every one of them. I was not surprised. In a discussion of “hot political topics” the legalization of marijuana came up (of course it did, they are 18)… Amsterdam was mentioned as an example for legalization for what they call “space cakes”. I then had to teach them “special brownies” as a vocabulary word. I was happy they were speaking. A lot of them were. In English.

To teach a lesson about American & French Stereotypes, I dug up an episode of The Simpsons called “The Crepes of Wrath” (HA!) This is the episode where Bart goes to France on an exchange program and ends up having to work at a winery with terribly rude French people who smoke and wear stripey shirts (stereotypes!). My brother has mentioned that this is the first thing that pops into his mind every time I tell him I am going to France. I can assure you all- I am chain smoking right now, wearing a beret and eating baguette, and have plans to ride on a motorbike in order to stomp on some grapes for wine tomorrow. Vive la France!

Ironically, one of my favorite classes is the one that originally skipped my first week. Boy was I angry at them then. Boy do I now love that they are silly, fun, eager to talk, and laugh at all my jokes. One boy asked me where I studied because my accent is great! I am not sure he understood that I am American and that my American accent is so great because English is my first language.

Upon evaluating my week and discussing it with some friends, I am quite pleased I was placed in a high school. My friend in a primary school spent a significant amount of one day with two flashcards yelling “repeat after me… this is a horse! This is a dog!”

I am really enjoying teaching. Lesson planning is definitely a lot of work, but the discussions and antics of high schoolers make it worthwhile.

And now, a little dose of awkward, because it’s me…

I got a French haircut, really just my bangs. Good thing I knew the vocab word “fringe” and had a photo with me, because this was my conversation with the hairdresser.

Please excuse the MySpace style photo

*he examines my hair, picking at it and looking at it strangely, and then says something that means nothing to me.

Friend who came along for moral and linguistical support “I think he just said your hair is frizzy!”

Me “Oh the water is different in France. I just recently bought French shampoo to replace my worthless American shampoo. I think my hair is still adjusting to the change”

Hairdresser: “the water should have no effect on why your roots are lighter than the rest of your hair.” …Which is what he was commenting on in the first place.

Oh yah… I dye my hair a lot. Can you give me fringe now? Just like the picture. I promise I won’t try to talk to you anymore.

And drumroll please, for my final bit of news… I am going to London in February with school! I was just invited this week and will get to see all of London’s famous sites, Chaperone style, for 5 days, for FREE. Merci Beaucoup Lycée! 

Bises Bises,

Steph

PS. A quick note on strikes… one of my friends didn’t have to work on Monday because of a strike at her middle school… why were they striking? The heat had not been turned on in the building yet. Teachers refuse to teach in a cold building! Students refuse to learn in these barbaric conditions! No school on Monday! This has been my favorite strike reason to date.