Uhm I can’t even remember which school I go to on Mondays…

A few assistants work at multiple schools- especially those assistants working with little ones. The title of this blog post came straight out of the mouth of one of my friends, as we discussed the ending of the February vacations and the idea of heading back to work on Monday.

So what have I done with a week of zero responsibility in Nantes?

Bicloo

Nantes has this neat bike rental system. Bikes are stationed all throughout the city and Frenchies can choose to subscribe for a yearlong membership (29 euros for the year 20 euros if you have a public transportation pass, first 30 minutes of Biking free from any Bicloo station in the city) or one can subscribe for 1-7 days (cost 1-5 euros). The bikes have no locks, but when finished you simply click them into place at any Bicloo station, ready for another Nantais to use as they please.  We’ve obviously seen these Bicloo stations, commented on figuring out how to use them, and finally took advantage of one of our gorgeous February days to rent bikes for the day. 

I had a bike when I lived and studied in Grenoble, but biking in traffic is something to get re-accustomed to. I don’t know if I can speak for all Europeans but the French at least find it quite normal to share the road with cyclists. Bike lanes are all over Nantes, and I’m pretty sure we only broke a few minor traffic laws while determining our paths throughout the day (some terrifying large roundabouts were conquered). 

We are already discussing the endless opportunities these bikes can open up to us. Namely, on Saturday nights when we end up at Hangar Bananes we now won’t have to rush and make the long trek to catch the last tram home… we can instead rent our bikes at the Elephant, and after an uncomfortable ride home on cobblestone, click them into place at 8 Mai. I've suggested that we take a Sunday, when everything is closed and there is nothing to do, to bike to the neighboring town Clisson for a picnic- 1/2 hour train ride away. I have little to no faith that neither of these events will ever happen. But it’s nice to know the possibility is there. 

 

Day Trip: Rennes, France

Meet pretty pretty Rennes. I actually have been to the train station in this city before… two summers ago I had to transfer here as I traveled from Paris to camp, but my bags were too much for me to handle to do any kind of exploring. 

 

Rennes is a beautiful city to walk through. The capitol of Bretagne, it’s famous for galettes/crepes and medieval half-timbered houses. 

Fretting over the fate of my computer

I’ve spent a significant part of this week crying to my mother, worrying about my computer, and running countless scans only to come across a frozen screen. I’ve had some terrifying “failure is imminent” messages pop up. Yikes. The tech-savvy foyer employer took a look at it and it seems to be freezing less now… My computer is my biggest link to America while I’m here. I don’t love the idea of getting a new hard drive, inevitably a French one… although the technology vocabulary I would be forced to learn could greatly enhance my language development. I would prefer it not to crash at all, but if it must, it could do me a big favor and wait 11 weeks until I’m home in America. 

That’s right… 11 weeks. It seems so little when I think about it in weeks. I have mixed feelings about that number. Where has the time gone?  

Back to work on Monday... to wrap up my 3 day work-month.

Bisous, 

Steph

I see London, I see France...

It’s been awhile, but that’s because I’ve been traveling a bit. The title gives it away but read on if you’d like some details.

It’s February, and in France, for those who work in the academic system, that means yet another two week vacation. But I am no ordinary French employee… I am a language assistant with a lighter schedule than your average French teacher, who was also invited on a weeklong school trip to England before vacation started. The total of my working days spent in school this month is a whopping 3… and I’ve already worked one of those days.

This is not to say that the week I spent in England was not work. I’m sure you can imagine what chaperoning 42 French teenagers on the streets of London is like. Hint: it does not involve the enjoyment of English Pub Culture and Fish and Chips. But I got to see some wonderful sights, meet some wonderful people, and get just enough of a glimpse of England to make me eager to visit again someday.

Highlights included a short cruise on the Thames showcasing Big Ben and the London Eye, seeing the Rosetta Stone in The British Museum (a serious chunk of history and enough to make any language person gawk), visiting the Globe Theatre and the London Dungeon (kind of like an American Haunted House, but with some historical value and informational videos as well as some brief amusement-park style rides). I also got to visit Oxford, which truly made me feel like a Muggle who has never received an invitation to Hogwarts until then, and the Cotswalds, which had me glancing every which way for Mr. Darcy to appear out of a Jane Austen style cottage.



Oxford is magically beautiful



We visited a castle, Warwick Castle- which was a little too medieval times for my liking (although  I was deemed most magical of our group and chosen by a man in tights and medieval clothes to lead us on an adventure to speak with a dragon, booyah)… but back on track... I noticed some girls from our group had stopped and were looking into some surrounding trees, cooing about how “mignon” or cute this something was. Being an animal lover of all kinds, especially when I can see animals in natural environments, I asked the girls what they were looking at. It was a squirrel.Wait what? France, you need some wildlife… your people think that squirrels are cute and worth stopping to stare at.



Bourton on the Water, in the Cotswalds



The trend of many of my travels seems to be the enjoyment of connecting with different people, and relaxing at the dinner table with our host family was always a wonderful part of our day. The group of teachers was placed with a family whose hospitality and love of sharing and discovering new cultures seemed simply a way of life.

I was spoiled and got to speak English for four days… but the problem is that its second nature now, when speaking with strangers in restaurants, public places etc, to answer in French. Oh boy. So I said “Merci” in response to being told to mind my step when hopping onto the boat for our little cruise. I smiled and said “Bonjour” when a waiter appeared. I was listening and speaking French all day with the teachers and the students, but expected to speak English in public settings. It was mentally exhausting, but a delightful mélange.



All the coffee in France is little. You have no idea how wonderful it felt to actually hold a big cup of coffee again



 I took the greatest nap of my life when I finally returned home to my little room in the foyer.

Back in la France, my friends and I celebrated Love’s greatest holiday in style... crepes for lunch (pictured below is dessert- chestnut and whipped cream crepe) and later that evening some wine, heart shaped cheese and a French movie called “Les Petits Mouchoirs” literally translated: the little tissues.

And then I ventured to Paris. I’ve been to Paris… well, many times. I was invited to stay with a friend at her family friend’s apartment for a few days, making my only costs transportation and the cost of groceries instead of restaurants, so I figured why not? Plus, I live two hours away from Paris by train at the moment and I’m pretty sure that this will not be the case later on in life. And call me a snob, but I like to buy French perfume and what I like is sold in Paris… and I needed more of it.

 

It had to be done



Having visited Paris and many of the tourist sites multiple times, we decided that this time around we would focus on some of Paris’ lesser known gems. I finally got to see the Rodin Museum which has been on my list for quite awhile now. Unfortunately the permanent collection was closed, but the gardens were still open and we took advantage of the whole being under 26 free entry that was offered.

We also visited Pere LaChaise cemetery, historic, old, eerie, and beautiful in a quiet and odd kind of way. One can find the graves of many famous people here, ranging from Chopin to Jim Morrison. The cemetery features other graves with green ivy or moss covering the surfaces, making names unreadable, cracked and crumbling headstones… an interesting visual of the passing of time. I love the moss covered sculpture in the picture to your right.



One of the most striking monuments, for the Jews killed of Auschwitz III



Do we do this in America?

There is a beautiful area devoted to the victims of concentration camps, with not just one monument for the camps in general, but separate monuments for each camp, with signs mentioning that below the stones lies an urn of ashes collected from each particular site. We also saw a lawn that was meant for cremated ashes with roses strewn sporadically throughout, and a small sign asking us not to step on the grass out of respect. I’d never seen anything like that before in my life… do we do that in America? 



 

So much American goodness



The next day I spent on my own as my friend wasn’t feeling very well. I had my first Hamburger since September at dinner the night before (Paris… big city. Big options.) and I decided that a day walking around a park was just what I wanted/needed. I spent the majority of the day walking around the most romantic park I have ever visited, with waterfalls, a grotto, a lake, an island. Les Buttes Chaumont was seriously a beaut to see, and I was seriously missing my own  cheri by the end of the afternoon.

   I ended my day alone waiting in line for 30 minutes at a pastry shop on the Champs Elysées to get my weekly Macaron fix. I enjoyed the most delicious, delicate, perfect macarons (pistachio- always a staple, chestnut and pear- to die for, and the valentine’s special grapefruit and vanilla). While walking down one of the world’s famous and expensive avenues, shamelessly eating some treats, a man approached me and asked if he could walk with me and talk to me. I’m not sure why French men see women alone and assume they want some company (as this is not the first time something like this has happened), perhaps they have seen too many movies where American girls swoon over their accents… I politely told him that non, I did not want to talk, as I was hoping to “profiter” from my macaron experience. He left, I checked to make sure he somehow had not stolen my wallet from my purse, and then I did profiter from my macarons.





You know that song that goes something like "love the one you're with"? I am having a serious foreign  love affair with the baked goods here.



And alas, I find myself back in Nantes, with yet another week of vacation time. I bought a baguette on my way home from the train station, and when the woman handed it to me I was pleasantly surprised to find it was fresh from the oven and still warm. This is the life, my friends. Utter contentment.





I couldn't give you a Paris post without her non?



Bisous,

Steph

C’est quoi le problème?@!

I’ve heard that it was about 50 degrees in Ohio yesterday. You lucky ducks.

It is COLD in Nantes. I hate cold. I know hate is a strong word. But I hate cold. Je déteste absolument la froid. If I say it in both languages, I really mean it. 

We’ve had a mild winter here, and most of the days have been in the 50s. I laughed earlier in the season when people would say it is cold outside. I considered getting a bike now in February instead of waiting until March. I am no longer laughing at anyone. And thinking about even venturing to the bus stop is enough to make me cringe, let alone the idea of biking to the grocery store. 

So what can you do when it’s terribly cold outside? You eat! You drink! You are merry! All while avoiding the outdoors.

Some foodie news:

             I made my first ever Quiche this past week!  I have always known the deliciousness of a good quiche, but why have I never been informed how easy it is to make them? Eggs, Bacon, Onion, Crème Fraiche in a puff pastry? That’s it?!? Yum. 

            I also experienced everything that is a proper 3 course French dinner last Friday.

The language teachers at Lycée de Bouaye arranged an evening out for their three language assistants… myself, the German assistant and the Spanish assistant. And so instead of our normal “we’re too tired to go into town let’s go to the cinema or stay in and drink wine instead” Friday night, the three of us dressed for the occasion and enjoyed a proper three course meal with the French. 

The “Super Assistantes” were toasted by the teachers with an apératif (before dinner drink). My meal then consisted of cuisses de grenouille, canard et crème brulée (froglegs, duck, and… crème brulee). It was Wonderful. 

The teachers applauded when I ordered the froglegs. I had no idea how to eat them (you pick them up with your fingers, thankfully another teacher ordered them too!)They were delish, by the way. But so covered in garlic that the teachers joked it was good that my fiancée lives across the ocean. 

 In between courses the teachers switched spots so everyone had the opportunity to sit near the assistants and chat with us.  Darling.  

Our meal lasted about three hours. We conversed, we laughed, we enjoyed each other’s company and truly relished in the delicious food we were served. I love what the French eat, and how the French eat. The meal itself was truly an event. 

 

February is not only the only the month of LOVE, but also the month of Crepes, which I happen to LOVE, so this all makes perfect sense to me. The French eat crepes on February 2- nothing to do with the groundhog (they find our own tradition quite odd), but instead has to do with the Catholic “la Chandeleur, Fête de la Lumière” holiday celebrating the purification of Mary, presentation of baby Jesus etc etc. Even after upteen years of Catholic education, I was unaware of this holiday and how to celebrate it (Sorry mom and dad, St. Ursula Academy, UD…) However I had no problem learning to celebrate this holiday French style with a foyer Crepe Party!  The French don’t really celebrate the religious part, just the delicious dessert eating part. 

I even got to attempt to “flip” a crepe myself, tossing it from the pan into the air… but ended up having to eat that one  because I have not yet mastered my crepe flipping culinary skills.

Never had a crepe? They are wonderfully thin pancake-like treats. You slather your choice of nutella, honey, jam, sugar (they have a brand here called “Daddys” as in “Sugar Daddy”) onto this treat, fold it up, and save the pointed part for last because most often it has the most of whatever delicious filler you chose! I’ve also had for real French Grandma-made crepes from a girl in the foyer that were so buttery and delicious on their own I declined nutella for the first time in my life.

No worries American friends… I will bring all these traditions home and next year, when I am pining for my French life, I will bake for you a King Cake in January and crepes in February.

Unfortunately my first fairly negative experience this time around in France wheezled its way in between all this gourmet eating. But looking back on the whole evening, the series of events as a whole is ridiculously amusing.

In any of the classes I have taught about stereotypes, the students are always surprised and appalled to hear that Americans thinks the French are rude. They don’t see it. I usually don’t see it. I have written about the kindness of multiple French people in this very blog…

This stereotype reared its ugly head for the first time when I studied abroad.(My friends remember this event and my subsequent "I hate everyone in the world" freak out quite well). In retrospect I was with a group of people begging for attention- being blatantly foreign in clothing, screaming in English, and expressing general tourist mannerisms. All things I (as well as the people I associate myself with) put a lot of effort into trying to hide a bit nowadays.

So Saturday. The only night we ventured outdoors into the bitterly cold tundra that has become Nantes, was a mess. Expectations were high due to a disappointing weekend before at the Party Boat (seems awesome, it’s not. But I’m willing to give it a second chance.) Our night, in brief points:

  1. English male friend, not surprisingly, is late. We RUN the 10 minute walk to the tram stop… stopping only to politely attempt to give some Frenchies directions. In the midst of running for the tram this same polite friend runs into a small pole and falls over, which unfortunately I did not get to see with my own eyes.

2.   Deep breath, we made it onto the tram. So did a giant man who easily lost his balance as the tram jolted forward, and fell into my Spanish friend’s lap. I cannot emphasize enough how giant this man was. She is probably still “mal au jambe” at this very moment.

3.    Pre-Party at our friend’s foyer. Best part of the night by far.

4.     Venture to Hangar Bananes, the world’s worst located strip of clubs, inconveniently placed on an island with little to no access to public transportation. Last minute decisions and all of a sudden half our group is left behind on the now departing tram, and we are sprinting for a bus.

5.    We bravely continue on, arrive at Hangar, and find our French foyer friends smoking outside a bar (quelle surprise). They enter. We follow. We are stopped. Bouncer: “How old are you?”  English Friend “20” as she reaches for her id. *Note* Clubs and Alcohol can be enjoyed legally by 18+ in France. Bouncer glances at id (English), back up at group, and proclaims “Pas ce soir” (not tonight) while closing the door. The foreigners exchange glances and debate in French what now to do. The many French people standing in line behind us are granted entry into the club

6.       This behavior doesn’t fly with English friend, who insists on standing right outside the door, demanding “C’est quoi le problème? C’est parce que je suis ANGLAISE!” She then accuses the bouncer of racism… (more like nationalism) but the main idea of prejudice and discrimination came across all the same. When the bouncer realized we weren’t going away, we weren't going to stop screaming about his racist ways, and our French friends weren’t going to stop bothering him to let us in, he opened the door and without saying anything this group of motley foreigners marched right in.

7.       The club was listening to American music.

8.       We leave club, stand in line for another club, decide not to enter club because it costs 17euro, and instead start the long walk towards the nearest tram stop.

9.       Friends miss the tram that will take them home. In the process of figuring out what to do with that situation we are approached by a very drunk and/or drugged couple wanting to be friends. Our tram arrives. I hop on, with 2 others. The tram rolls away and the rest of our friends are left to call a taxi and deal with druggie/drunkies. I am later told that they politely told the couple to leave them alone or that they would call the police. Bahahah. The police station closes for lunch. I doubt they are concerned with foreigners at this hour.

10.   We’re almost home. So close. My shoes are untied. My Spanish friend steps on the lace. Broken.

To use one of my favorite French expressions, C’était la merde.

In conclusion: the past two weeks I've eaten more delicous treats than someone who has to someday look beautiful in a white dress should. And I learned the French word for bouncer. You should at least know the vocabulary word for the person you accused of racism.

Bisous, 

Steph


*Despite the light manner in which I address the subject here, I believe that racism is a serious and frustrating issue in our society. My feelings are similar for nationalism.

Angry in Angers

My friends and I took a day trip this weekend to Angers, France. We’re slightly upset that it took 3 months for us to pick up and go, well anywhere… although it honestly took awhile to lose the tourist mentality we may have had with Nantes itself. It’s been our home for a bit of time now- we know what creperies and kebab shops we like, what boulangeries have the best pastries, which bars are for dancing, and how long the walk to the tram really takes (learned after many sprints for a leaving tram and a cold ½ hour wait for the next one). It’s comfortable here. We were ready for something new. 

 

A 16euro roundtrip train ticket and 36 minutes later, we arrive in Angers. Not knowing much, but knowing that there is a castle and a good museum, we wandered. The museum did not make us angry. It was quite beautiful, we played in the garden, took a lot of photos, and the people were happy to see visiting young foreigners. Many museums in France are free for students or anyone 25 and under. It’s wonderful encouragement for young people to truly take advantage of access to some of the best art collections in the world. 26 is le worst age to turn in France, as one of my friends here has come to realize. You no longer get reductions on transportation, the amount of housing welfare you receive decreases, and all your free museum visits are history. Tant Pis. We told the man at the admissions desk that we needed six under 25 tickets, and one regular priced ticket. He looked us all over (no doubt trying to figure out which one of us was too old) and told us he was just not going to check our identification. This man is the only nice person we met in Angers.

Time ticks on and cries of “J’ai faim!” ring amongst our group. We visit about 3 creperies where we are curtly told there is no room before just picking one and waiting it out. At one point our French friend got angry and had to step outside because the old ladies behind us were complaining that the group of foreigners would get seated before them. Well duh. We were here first. My being foreign does not make me less worthy of enjoying a crepe in your lovely country, which I happen to adore. By the way, I understand what you’re saying because I speak your language. 

 

The crepes were delicious. I realized I have never given you a photo of the grand Bretagne food I get to enjoy on a regular basis. You eat a savory “galette” first, and then a sweet “crepe” for dessert. Traditionally they are enjoyed with alcoholic cider. I know sometimes I can be untraditional, but I always follow this one in France :P

Galette with cheese, tomato, and egg

Homemade Caramel Crepe

Onward to the castle! It’s gorgeous. Which makes up for the meanie mean staff that work there. Again, the ticket purchases. There is a small sign explaining the price ranges “Free for students” “Free for anyone 25 and under holding a European Union passport, or living as a legal resident in France” “6,50 for adults”. Boom baby- I’m legal and here is my passport and immigration stamp to prove it! She grudgingly lets me through on the free pass. Again, the problem with my friend who is 26. But alas! She is a student in Germany! Here is her student card! The lady gets a terrible attitude and informs her that the free pass is only for French students of art history and tourism. Your little sign says none of that. And your unfriendly tone of voice is not appreciated. I don’t believe you. But thanks for the warm welcome. 

The castle in Angers houses the Tapestry of the Apocalypse, completed in 1382 and measuring 100 meters (328 ft) long, 4.5 meters (about 15 ft) high. We were convinced it would never end. My favorite panel involved a prostitute riding on a dragon kind of like a queen would ride on a horse. Is that part really in the apocalypse story? I don’t think I misinterpreted the sign and the French word for a prostitute (une prostituée).

 

Here is a piece of art I also really liked as it told the dark story of the prisoners that were kept in the castle at times. It’s a bit of a couchemar, but interesting nonetheless.

 After about six hours we were ready to peace out of Angry Angers. We had heard that Angers is quite “bourgeois”, and perhaps the people there are just not accustomed to young people or foreigners. The city itself is much prettier than Nantes- beautiful half-timbered houses, decorative buildings, and the castle is more impressive than our own Château des Ducs de Bretagne. But I’ll take Nantes anyday.

 

Speaking of angry, I’m also quite angry at American Republicans at the moment (shocking I know). The campaign ad accompanied by accordion music and criticizing Mitt Romney’s ability to speak French is just awful.  Here’s a link to an article about the video and the video itself “The French Connection”

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-16549624

I know that the video and the mention of speaking French was meant to link Mitt Romney with John Kerry, and further support the notion that Romney leans more on the liberal side and should not be the Republican candidate. But I'm going to focus on how annoyed I was that speaking a foreign language was portrayed as a negative trait.

I’m not sure how speaking a foreign language can be deemed a negative aspect for anyone considering public office. My own travel experiences have given me a better understanding of the world and its people… have helped me better understand, appreciate, and respect our cultural differences. There is so much out there to learn, so many people to talk to.  How can we criticize this candidate for showing an interest in the world outside of America? America has forgotten that we are completely composed of different people who originally spoke different languages. When it comes to language we dismiss foreign language learning as unimportant, even criticizing it in this case. How can we truly connect with other countries if we are so stubbornly unable to grasp that we’re not all there is?

I asked my teachers class here what they would like to talk about in our upcoming sessions; they want to learn more about what is going on in the primary elections and how our political system functions. The world follows our news. It’s frustrating sometimes to read these kinds of articles and know that foreigners are trying to grasp these details and form an opinion on our people. To be honest, it can be a little embarrassing at times. 

Here’s another good article shared amongst many of the assistants here. It discusses some of Obama’s reforms and his “attempt to turn the USA into a European-style welfare state”. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/15/opinion/sunday/kristof-why-is-europe-a-dirty-word.html?_r=1

Sorry to get all political on you. Travel and language learning have done so much for me that I can’t help but feel strongly about the topic. The internet, Skype, couchsurfing, and the growing popularity of study abroad programs have opened up the world for my generation. I’m remaining optimistic in how Americans will be stereotyped in the future. 

Maybe the person who came up with this campaign video had only met one French person, and that French person was from Angers.

Bises

Steph

Officially a “prof” in France

…which sounds so much fancier than the English “teacher”

I have been observing classes, but this week was my very first to lesson plan and interact with the kids on my own. It’s been a big learning week for me… here are some questions that came up…

What do you do when your entire class of kids doesn’t show up?

Day 1 of teaching, Class #3 just doesn’t show up. Not even one student who was too scared to get in trouble for skipping. I didn’t know what to do so I waited for about 10 minutes, memorized my schedule because I looked at it so much, then went down to the teachers lounge hoping to run into one of the English teachers. No such luck. I stood awkwardly on the outskirts of a conversation between two profs I had never met until one of them asked me if I needed something. Yes. I need my students.

I was sent to speak with “la vie scolaire” (counselors/attendance office) and they said that sometimes the kids need to be reminded that my classes are not an option for them, they are compulsory. Well. Ok.  Stupid kids. I waited around for you. And now I’ve missed the bus and have to wait another hour. Needless to say- they do not get the option of voting on the topic they would like to study. And I will tell them that. And pick something that I want to do instead.

What do you do when you unlock your classroom door to find another teacher already using it?

You tell your students to hang tight and then run and bother “la vie scolaire” again. They send you to another room that is also being used. Run back to office. Finally they will send you to a tiny room with no technology…  Since I couldn’t use my planned lessons I instead discussed the crazy zoo event that happened in Ohio this week. God Bless you, interesting current events.

What do French kids immediately think when they hear the word “USA”?

I wanted to know what the kids knew already about America, so I put USA on the board in a circle and asked them what comes to mind right away. McDonalds was always in the first 3 things mentioned. One brave soul said “eunh, fat people”. New York always made the list. And Obama.  Also The Simpsons. And that’s how the world knows us, folks. 

What do you do when the fire alarm goes off in French high school?

Thankfully, you do the same thing you do in America. You get the kids out of the building and you shut the door behind you. You are also supposed to remember the attendance sheet- which I forgot. You should also probably know what the alarm sounds like, or else something like this will happen

Me: “ok! Whose cell phone is going off?”

Kids: “eunh Madame, we have to leave”

Me: “Wait what? Oh my gosh is that the fire alarm!”

Thanks to all who offered suggestions for my chapter themes with the kids…  here are the topics chosen by my 9 classes of First Years

American High Schools: 1

Hollywood & PopCulture: 4 (one of these groups is also interested in American sports. Ughhh. Fake it ‘til you make it right?)

French and American Stereotypes: 1

American Holidays: 1

*I did not see two of my classes of kids this week- the class that skipped and one that was cancelled for a meeting*

My 2 classes of “terminales”/ seniors are more serious and want to talk about American Politics and Government, Social Classes in America, Travel in the US, and Stereotypes

I will have two classes where I will be working with teachers who want to improve their English. Most are doing this for fun, some are doing this so they can practice to take an exam so they are certified to teach their discipline in English. The amount of language learning that goes on over here is incredible to me… bah American Education you are so far behind.

I asked all the teachers why they were taking that hour with me and one said “I want to improve my English so I can speak to tourists and people that I meet from other places.” Immediately a bumper sticker I once saw in America popped into my mind “Welcome to America, Speak English!” (Miraculously I somehow resisted the urge to rear-end the vehicle) … If everyone instead thought like this Frenchman, our world would be a better place. 

But I have survived my first week of teaching with many ups and downs.  And now I have a two week vacation!

Interesting social life tidbits from the week:

Crepes and cider in Trentemoult, which is a lovely little once-fishing village at the end of my bus line. We ate at a restaurant right on the water and it was quite charming.

Salsa dancing. We thought there was a lesson in the basement of this bar… nope, it was just in the middle of the bar. This tiny Latin American man led us speaking a mix of Spanish and French, Salsa music was cranked up loud, French bar patrons looked on, and we all stepped on each others’ feet as we “danced” for an hour. Kaitlin and Tracie- the way this man danced reminded me a little of UD Intermediate Jazz Dance with Gary 2007… figure eights? Still look real awkward when I attempt them.

Devoured Oysters (not just by me)

There are always evening activities at the foyer where I live and this week was themed “Energy Week”. I had a lot to do with lesson planning, but on Thursday I went on this odd little field trip: drove to a wind turbine about an hour away, looked at it, and then had a sampling of oysters in the middle of the wind turbine field by the glow of car headlights. First time with Oysters- and I think I was a little overenthusiastic… it was delicious but by the time we got home all I wanted was some bread and water. What do oysters taste like? My friend’s first reaction was “Oh Gahhh it takes like something you would accidently swallow when you are swimming in the sea!” I liked ‘em. They are salty. And you slurp them right out the shell. 

I’m leaving tomorrow to meet my parents and my aunt in Rome. We will then explore by cruise Rome, Sicily, Athens (as long as the political situation has calmed), Crete, and Ephesus Turkey. I am so excited to see my family, but am especially proud of my dad for braving that transatlantic flight for the first time. I am so excited to share this big travel experience with him, and also share it with my wonderfully adventurous mom and aunt.

Bises,

Steph