Sorry Mom :)
We’re back to the grind here in Rezé/Bouaye/Nantes… and as much as I felt like a small child whining about school starting back up again, it was good to get back on a routine. Of course, going back was made easier when I glanced at the calendar and realized I have 5 weeks of work before my “working” weeklong trip to London and the following two week “Winter Break”. The French know how to keep their teachers sane… just when the kiddos really start to drive you crazy, surprise! Two week break! Oui! Unfortunately most of my European friends will be returning home again for this February break to visit their chéries, but I hope to figure out some sort of travel for that time as well.
I've had some fun lessons since being back. I'm discussing the idea of an American roadtrip, the mentality of the idea, quotes from Jack Kerouac etc. with my "seniors" here. Today we talked about the importance of music on a roadtrip and I had them choose and explain a song to add to our own class roadtrip playlist. I lent out my ipod to some kids who forgot theirs, and my collection of Justin Bieber songs was questioned... if they scrolled down to the "O"s to see the number of "Original Broadway Cast" albums I have they chose not to say anything. I am obviously an insanely cool American in their eyes.
I've had some fun lessons since being back. I'm discussing the idea of an American roadtrip, the mentality of the idea, quotes from Jack Kerouac etc. with my "seniors" here. Today we talked about the importance of music on a roadtrip and I had them choose and explain a song to add to our own class roadtrip playlist. I lent out my ipod to some kids who forgot theirs, and my collection of Justin Bieber songs was questioned... if they scrolled down to the "O"s to see the number of "Original Broadway Cast" albums I have they chose not to say anything. I am obviously an insanely cool American in their eyes.
This blog post is going to be a little bit about sportz. You all know how athletic I am, and how much I love sportz. You are probably not surprised that this past week I went out and got a little exercise, and also attended a World Cup match.
Did I pick up running? Tennis? No. I went and played LAZERGAMES. Curious as to whether there were any differences between American Laser Tag and French LAZERGAME, I celebrated the return of my foyer friends by donning all black and attempting to shoot them with lasers. French laser tag isn’t much different than what I remember from 13 year old American birthday parties of my past doing the same thing. Really, no big differences, including the language. It was a bit strange hearing “DANGER! DANGER! The base is under attack!” in English while playing. In fact, I am almost sure I paused and was subsequently killed the first time I heard it. Another thing I found bemusing was the list of players’ names… each laser vest & gun truc kept track of the players’ stats and you had to remember your assigned name to see how you performed. I was Batman. Some other random (mostly) American names included: Terminator, Pikachu, Chuck Norris, Yoda, Legolas, Frankenstein, Shrek… odd yes?
I’m sure you’re all at the edge of your seat waiting to know just how well I compete in laser war. Round One I ranked 14/16. Yikes. I was consoled when I realized our little group of foreigners took places 13, 14, 15, 16. I picked up my game and dominated Round Two ranking 8/16.
The weekend brought on the second sports venture… the COUPE DU MONDE BABY-FOOT. What, you may ask, is Baby-Foot? It is the French’s adorable way of saying “Foosball”. In England they call this Table Soccer, in Spain they call this Futbolín, in Germany it’s probably something with a ridiculous amount of consonants… but I think France takes the cake for best word here. I figured: “When else will I ever get to personally watch a world cup event?” “When else will I get the chance to watch a serious foosball game?” “I brought all this left over 4th of July stuff with me, when else can I wear that sparkly star crown and the mini American flag in France?” I am not one to let an opportunity like this pass me by. And thankfully, despite having about 4 hours of sleep the night before, my friends thought the same.
I was disappointed to find that America was no longer in the running (but that didn’t stop me from chanting USA USA, waving my tiny American flag, when I walked past the team sporting their uniform USA windbreaker jackets). Sometimes I think it’s the French that don’t know how to handle my at-times-overwhelming enthusiasm, but I got some weird looks from the American Foosball team as well. Sorry for supporting you when you are in a foreign country ‘Merica, geez.
So the game I did get to watch, the women’s finals, I cheered for La France. France vs. Germany. A professional foosball game, by the way, takes 2+ hours. That’s a lot of sport for me… but the occasional camera shot of the crowd and the desperate attempts to get on some obscure EuroSports TV Channel pulled me through. One thing I found interesting was that they played one round of the match on a French made table (wood), and the next on a German made table (plastic). The rules were surprising more extensive than I imagined… and were upheld by two, that’s right TWO referees. Deutschland took the gold which made our German friend quite happy.
All in all an oddly positive experience. It was fun to spend a Sunday afternoon cheering “Allez Bleu!” while waving around those inflatable extendable-arm noisemakers. To top it off I got this poster…a little baby-foot guy, telling you to stop messing around. You better believe this will be framed if someday Joe wants a sports-themed room in our home.
On a non-sports related note, France celebrated the Epiphany with a tradition I was quite happy to take part in, and one that I will bring with me to the United States when I return home. KING CAKE. Mmm. It’s a puff pastry cake filled with apple compote or frangipane with a tiny porcelain figurine baked in. Whoever gets the slice with the figurine is the king or queen, gets to wear a paper crown all night, and chooses his or her king/queen. I got to be the Queen (at the school cafeteria, and yeah, I wore the crown through the cafeteria as well as into the teachers’ lounge). Being named the Queen wasn’t too big of a surprise considering I had about 5 pieces of King Cake at different points throughout the week.
My Spanish friend calls me “The Queen” often because of a long standing joke from a time she accused all Americans of thinking they are the “Kings or Queens of the World” because of our expectancy to find English speakers throughout the world. This Queen idea was only reinforced after Joseph proposed, adding quite a bit of sparkle to my Miss America/Queen wave. Which I do quite often.
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| Seriously. Look at this Pastry Saturday Find. |
Are you wondering how I am doing with my Resolutions? We’ve been hanging out with some French people from the foyer lately, even meeting up with them this past weekend at the bars… so while I don’t have a language tandem (this is proving more difficult than I imagined), I feel I am still integrating a bit more already. I didn’t start reading anything in French yet, but I did go see another movie (Les Lyonnais, a French “gangster” crime film with a lot of violence and a plot I am still not sure I really understand). I also researched and found a French-American organization in Cleveland. Once I make the big move home it will be easier to pretend I still live in the land of extensive vacations, grèves, and Macarons the size of your face, but with the added bonus of my own chérie located geographically closer.
Bises and Love from this Queen
Steph
Almost forgot, if you happen to be looking for a great read, I recommend “The Night Circus” by Erin Morgenstern. It’s a wonderfully magical book with a love story and a hint of darkness that is just perfect.
Also, to those of you who have been lighting up my mailbox here with holiday mail and engagement congratulations... thank you. So much.
