After 7 months of sporadic classes, ridiculously long vacays, and one or two really obnoxious students I had my last day of school today. I was supposed to have 3 classes but 2 of them were cancelled because the students are in mock exams. So I had one class with a group I don't really know too well, that talked too much, didn't really understand my game, and then overheard me kinda tattling on one of the students who was more obnoxious than usual to their english teacher. Overall kind of anti-climactic. So instead I'll relate Tuesday's last class.
My favorite class whom I've had all year since I began, with my favorite english teacher, is my last class on Tuesdays. They're Premiers meaning they're all about 16 or 17 years old, and they're in the European Studies division, so they're all really smart. They always surprise me with their level of comprehension, how they understand me even when I forget where I am and rattle off sentences way too fast, and they get all my hilarious jokes. I love them. They were the ones who while playing the I Know Someone Who game, said "I know someone who... loves Frenchcoco!" and every one of them got up to switch chairs. I love them so much that when I was asked to do my hour class with only half of the class, I stayed an additional hour afterward so that I could say goodbye to the other half. Some of the students cried while they asked me final questions and while I told them stories about my experiences here in France. But mostly there were a lot of laughing. I gave them my last name and told them they could find me on facebook now that they were no longer my students and by the time that I walked the 5 minutes back to my room I already had 3 requests from cell phone accounts. If anything was a catalyst for making me want to continue teaching or if there was a specific moment that spawned the idea, it occurred with this group.
This year has been absolutely incredible and I cannot believe it's almost over. I usually feel this way about everything but it's 100% true that I regret absolutely nothing about this experience - including the 10 pounds I gained and then (almost entirely) lost.
On to EUROPE! The itinerary is as follows over the month of May: London, Ireland, Dublin, Amsterdam, Berlin, Budapest, Madrid, Rome, Pisa. Stay tuned for wacky photos and worse language gaffes! <3
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Things I want to remember years from now
Walking home with P in freezing January and spotting a hedgehog ducking between parked cars. Stooping down on the ground in heels and searching for the little guy, willing him to reveal himself and appease my curiosity. I didn't even really get a good glimpse of him and the only reason I could understand what P was excited about was because I recently read "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" and had researched the translated title. Apparently they always show up on that street, only during the month of January.
Walking back from a class I just taught and hearing my name being called in a thick french accent. "Laurenne! Laurrrenne!" Turning and not seeing anyone initially, and then spotting 3 teenage boys hanging from a third story window, who then shouted in english, "I love yoooou! Lauren I love you!" Without skipping a beat and without having any idea who they were I blew several kisses to them and kind of skipped back to my studio.
Trying to explain what is Mac n' Cheese to a classroom of french teenagers and getting "preservatifs" (condoms) confused with "conservateurs" (preservatives).
Dancing with P to the song Johnny Be Good in a crowded bar in which no one else is dancing and then being dipped and twirled while everyone watches.
Playing drinking games in french with the french and the terror that gripped me for almost a whole hour while I tried not to lose first.
Telling a 19 year old in a bar that I'm 25 years old and having him respond with, "Fuck! You could be my mom!"
Being proactive and asking P's mom and sister if I could help with lunch and then having absolutely no idea what their response was, and staring blankly while they tried to employ french and pantomime to help me understand.
Debating hip hop with a Senegalese 27 year old.
Debating English imperialism and superiority with an Englishman.
Teaching one class wherein the students are awed and impressed by my "excellent French" and then teaching a class directly after that wherein not one person can understand my words and snickering ensues.
Playing "I know someone who" - a game where everyone sits in a circle with one less chair than people and if the phrase pertains to you, you must stand up and quickly change chairs; if not, then you stay seated. Having a student stand in the center and say, "I know someone who loves Lauren" and having every single student stand up and change chairs.
Thinking that 52 degrees Fahrenheit is time to break out the skirts.
Knowing that everyone that I meet here is a learning experience about myself, my shortcomings, my strengths, my passions, and the world itself.
Walking back from a class I just taught and hearing my name being called in a thick french accent. "Laurenne! Laurrrenne!" Turning and not seeing anyone initially, and then spotting 3 teenage boys hanging from a third story window, who then shouted in english, "I love yoooou! Lauren I love you!" Without skipping a beat and without having any idea who they were I blew several kisses to them and kind of skipped back to my studio.
Trying to explain what is Mac n' Cheese to a classroom of french teenagers and getting "preservatifs" (condoms) confused with "conservateurs" (preservatives).
Dancing with P to the song Johnny Be Good in a crowded bar in which no one else is dancing and then being dipped and twirled while everyone watches.
Playing drinking games in french with the french and the terror that gripped me for almost a whole hour while I tried not to lose first.
Telling a 19 year old in a bar that I'm 25 years old and having him respond with, "Fuck! You could be my mom!"
Being proactive and asking P's mom and sister if I could help with lunch and then having absolutely no idea what their response was, and staring blankly while they tried to employ french and pantomime to help me understand.
Debating hip hop with a Senegalese 27 year old.
Debating English imperialism and superiority with an Englishman.
Teaching one class wherein the students are awed and impressed by my "excellent French" and then teaching a class directly after that wherein not one person can understand my words and snickering ensues.
Playing "I know someone who" - a game where everyone sits in a circle with one less chair than people and if the phrase pertains to you, you must stand up and quickly change chairs; if not, then you stay seated. Having a student stand in the center and say, "I know someone who loves Lauren" and having every single student stand up and change chairs.
Thinking that 52 degrees Fahrenheit is time to break out the skirts.
Knowing that everyone that I meet here is a learning experience about myself, my shortcomings, my strengths, my passions, and the world itself.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Random Update
I've stealthily infiltrated the french life and culture by dating a local. That's right. "SkKKKOCCHHH T.Paine to Uncle Sam - we have breached the premises" And it is just as we suspected. Lots of kisses on both cheeks hello, few preservatives in food, and atheism abounds! My french is still lacking but I have good days and bad ones, and overall am only improving by immersing myself in love texts in an alien language and likewise the local drinking games.
On the other hand I haven't received packages that were sent to me 3 weeks ago. The french bureaucracy is notorious for it's lack of efficiency and after 2 weeks of snow halting all traffic in France, I fear there's a large backup somewhere.
Work goes as well as ever, only now occasionally I see students in my classes that I saw at the latest party last weekend. Awkward. And as ever, an experience to make the best of and blog about later.
I've also begun training for the Paris Half Marathon. I was talking about it quite a bit to random people for a while but now that the prospect of running 13.1 miles again has become painfully imminent to my knees, I'm keeping my mouth shut. Not that I expect to bail before race day, but... maybe I won't broadcast to the world (on fb, not blogspot) until I'm sure I won't be carted off to First Aid. Baaahhhh.
On the other hand I haven't received packages that were sent to me 3 weeks ago. The french bureaucracy is notorious for it's lack of efficiency and after 2 weeks of snow halting all traffic in France, I fear there's a large backup somewhere.
Work goes as well as ever, only now occasionally I see students in my classes that I saw at the latest party last weekend. Awkward. And as ever, an experience to make the best of and blog about later.
I've also begun training for the Paris Half Marathon. I was talking about it quite a bit to random people for a while but now that the prospect of running 13.1 miles again has become painfully imminent to my knees, I'm keeping my mouth shut. Not that I expect to bail before race day, but... maybe I won't broadcast to the world (on fb, not blogspot) until I'm sure I won't be carted off to First Aid. Baaahhhh.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
happy new year en français
While I would like to be sleeping off my hangover from last night's New Years Eve party, after lying in bed for the last 2 hours wide awake, it appears I could be more productive with my time. By blogging!
I got blackout wasted. I literally blacked out from about 11pm to about 1am according to the time stamp on the photos that were taken despite my total incoherence. Looking at my fb album, I don't remember the majority of those photos. Worse, I don't even remember counting down! GAHH! I LOVE the countdown! Now it's freaking 2011 and I couldn't tell you the difference.
Yes I've been hanging out with P-baby and his friends all week and have been getting progressively more comfortable with them and with speaking french with them. I'll even say I'm funny. But last night started with a new crop of friends and an intimate dinner before the party started at some guy's house. Of course everyone spoke way too fast for me and of course I had to ask the host to repeat his question twice before I understood he was asking my name. Faaantastic. Then everyone else came and it just looked like I was shy, not necessarily that I was a foreigner, because everyone was talking or not talking and just milling about. And then the drinking began. I figured hell, my french needs a little boost from confidence juice - have at it, self! And so I boozed. And I became a little too comfortable, smacking the German guy around a few times, and actually bickering with him in english (because 99% of Germans speak excellent english). And then I blacked out.
(Insert countdown to 2011, everyone having champagne (including me), and vigorous dancing - all of which I know only because I looked at my camera around 4am)
I woke up on the bed in a guest room next to the party. I think I slept for around an hour but then fell back asleep and woke up to a boy plopping down on the bed beside me in the dark. I was willing to share the bed but then he kept reaching over to caress my face or something, and I got the distinct impression he was going to try to kiss me. So I jumped up after muttering some english and french about what an asshole he is, and again did the "I'm ready to leave!" scene and told P-baby I was leaving NOW. Sloppy. Then I thought I had lost my camera or that that kid stole it from me when he was distracting me with the creepiness factor, so I went back into the bedroom where he was still lying on the bed, and there were several people in the room doing something and started to look around him, under him, getting really worked up. I actually kind of fluffed and tugged the blanket underneath him bc I thought he was lying on it, and I was mad at him still for being weird and making me leave my comfy repose, and made audible noises of frustration until P-baby told me to stop it - in front of his friends who were still in the room. Then I stormed back to the dance party room looking for my camera, kind of crying at this point because the French are so stupid and keep doing weird creepy shit to me, and I'd lost my camera, when it occurs to me that I have my camera. I unbutton my coat and find it hanging on my arm from the camera strap, where i usually keep it during parties. And immediately burst into drunken laughter. Poor P-baby had been searching for it for me everywhere and was utterly relieved when I found it. Adorable. And TERRIBLY obnoxious of me.
Bonjour, je m'appelle Lauren. I make the language gaffes and cultural snafus. Beyond all of the above bs I actually had a fantastic time and only saw 2 students who go to my school, but whom I do not teach. Bonne année!
I got blackout wasted. I literally blacked out from about 11pm to about 1am according to the time stamp on the photos that were taken despite my total incoherence. Looking at my fb album, I don't remember the majority of those photos. Worse, I don't even remember counting down! GAHH! I LOVE the countdown! Now it's freaking 2011 and I couldn't tell you the difference.
Yes I've been hanging out with P-baby and his friends all week and have been getting progressively more comfortable with them and with speaking french with them. I'll even say I'm funny. But last night started with a new crop of friends and an intimate dinner before the party started at some guy's house. Of course everyone spoke way too fast for me and of course I had to ask the host to repeat his question twice before I understood he was asking my name. Faaantastic. Then everyone else came and it just looked like I was shy, not necessarily that I was a foreigner, because everyone was talking or not talking and just milling about. And then the drinking began. I figured hell, my french needs a little boost from confidence juice - have at it, self! And so I boozed. And I became a little too comfortable, smacking the German guy around a few times, and actually bickering with him in english (because 99% of Germans speak excellent english). And then I blacked out.
(Insert countdown to 2011, everyone having champagne (including me), and vigorous dancing - all of which I know only because I looked at my camera around 4am)
I woke up on the bed in a guest room next to the party. I think I slept for around an hour but then fell back asleep and woke up to a boy plopping down on the bed beside me in the dark. I was willing to share the bed but then he kept reaching over to caress my face or something, and I got the distinct impression he was going to try to kiss me. So I jumped up after muttering some english and french about what an asshole he is, and again did the "I'm ready to leave!" scene and told P-baby I was leaving NOW. Sloppy. Then I thought I had lost my camera or that that kid stole it from me when he was distracting me with the creepiness factor, so I went back into the bedroom where he was still lying on the bed, and there were several people in the room doing something and started to look around him, under him, getting really worked up. I actually kind of fluffed and tugged the blanket underneath him bc I thought he was lying on it, and I was mad at him still for being weird and making me leave my comfy repose, and made audible noises of frustration until P-baby told me to stop it - in front of his friends who were still in the room. Then I stormed back to the dance party room looking for my camera, kind of crying at this point because the French are so stupid and keep doing weird creepy shit to me, and I'd lost my camera, when it occurs to me that I have my camera. I unbutton my coat and find it hanging on my arm from the camera strap, where i usually keep it during parties. And immediately burst into drunken laughter. Poor P-baby had been searching for it for me everywhere and was utterly relieved when I found it. Adorable. And TERRIBLY obnoxious of me.
Bonjour, je m'appelle Lauren. I make the language gaffes and cultural snafus. Beyond all of the above bs I actually had a fantastic time and only saw 2 students who go to my school, but whom I do not teach. Bonne année!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
J'ai dit NON
I want you all to know that I accidentally partied with 18-19 year olds last night, and this morning after reviewing my photos (which i uploaded on fb already) I realized some of them are my students. ALso, I def recognized one of my students last night and went up to the bar where he was behind the counter (which was actually some kind of abaondoned/empty building) and said in english, "Where can I get a drink?" We just stared pretty dumbfounded at each other but ended up having a good clean time together. He left before I got absolutely wasted with the other girls, as none of our usual boy counterparts were along for the night, and probably wouldn't have allowed us to leave the well lit bar we were at to go to the dark and secluded "house party" 10 minutes away. Word to the wise French jungle juice involves any possible liquor and whatever boxed juice is available on the countertop/elevated dance platform.
It was fantastic. The French in so many ways are more reserved than Americans which makes large raucous parties less about Seven Minutes in Heaven and more about dancing in a circle with your arms clasping the stranger's next to you. Although the French and maybe Europeans in general still have that sense of patriarchy which governs male-female relationships, something which I don't think is as prominent at home. For example. During the party, this guy grabbed me and made me dance with him to the song Johnny Be Good (no freaking joke), and tried to kiss me out of nowhere before I shoved away. Then a SECOND guy grabbed me when we were outside together and tried to kiss me. After that I marched inside the warehouse/covert operations headquarters and announced in English, "I'M READY TO LEAVE NOW" and launched into a slurred tirade on how in MY country we have marketing campaigns against forceful come-ons. Terrible tourist.
Despite all of that, I've been dying to find where the kids hang out and what happens when the 3 bars in town close at 1 a.m. and am now completely satisfied. Now I feel settled in and don't feel like I'm missing so much at home. I feel like I can enjoy my experiences here and not wonder who's singing what at Sardos.
I got to bed at 4:30 in the morning after eating a can of Tartiflette (fancy potatoes and ham) all in all very pleased with the evening and this general case study on French culture and teenage social settings I call 'work'.
It was fantastic. The French in so many ways are more reserved than Americans which makes large raucous parties less about Seven Minutes in Heaven and more about dancing in a circle with your arms clasping the stranger's next to you. Although the French and maybe Europeans in general still have that sense of patriarchy which governs male-female relationships, something which I don't think is as prominent at home. For example. During the party, this guy grabbed me and made me dance with him to the song Johnny Be Good (no freaking joke), and tried to kiss me out of nowhere before I shoved away. Then a SECOND guy grabbed me when we were outside together and tried to kiss me. After that I marched inside the warehouse/covert operations headquarters and announced in English, "I'M READY TO LEAVE NOW" and launched into a slurred tirade on how in MY country we have marketing campaigns against forceful come-ons. Terrible tourist.
Despite all of that, I've been dying to find where the kids hang out and what happens when the 3 bars in town close at 1 a.m. and am now completely satisfied. Now I feel settled in and don't feel like I'm missing so much at home. I feel like I can enjoy my experiences here and not wonder who's singing what at Sardos.
I got to bed at 4:30 in the morning after eating a can of Tartiflette (fancy potatoes and ham) all in all very pleased with the evening and this general case study on French culture and teenage social settings I call 'work'.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Settler'd In
It's December and I'm well nigh settled in after 2 months in France. I haven't really REALLY gotten homesick (despite my last entry) except for on Thanksgiving day. Explaining to my students the deliciousness of pumpkin pie (which you can't find in France) and telling the day's general timeline of Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, football, food, sleep, football, food, sleep was just depressing. "In my country in approximately 4 hours...."
It's a pretty incredible thing that a country the size of the United States engages for the most part in one holiday from coast to coast. Shops shut down, people migrate home, and turkeys meet a butcher for the first and last time from California to New York. I made a powerpoint explaining the somewhat tainted history of Thanksgiving and describing how modern day Thanksgiving came to be, including: The presidential turkey pardon each year dating back to Truman and Black Friday. I never really gave much thought to this holiday as anything more than a TON of food and as I grew up, an excuse to meet old high school friends and get drunk on college vacation. Trying to convey TG's significance to a bunch of non-American teenagers and feeling the heaviness of home sickness (maladie du pays) actually gave Thanksgiving the validity that 24 years of Hallmark always tried to but could never accomplish.
The 5 Americans in Vernon created the most impressive Thanksgiving dinner of substitute ingredients that ever was and shared it with our English and German counterparts to unanimous applause. Delicious. Because if there's one thing the French and TG have in common, it's butter.
December 1st: SNOW! Yes, I've seen falling snow 2 or 3 times, and been to Tahoe and snowboarded (attempted to) but I have never lived in it. It. Is. Glorious. COLD. But glorious. It's 5 days in and I'm still giddy at the sight of the now brown clumps. Will this honeymoon period last through March (as I'm sure the snow will)? Who knows! For the time being I'm exhausting my camera and enjoying the frostbite :)
It's a pretty incredible thing that a country the size of the United States engages for the most part in one holiday from coast to coast. Shops shut down, people migrate home, and turkeys meet a butcher for the first and last time from California to New York. I made a powerpoint explaining the somewhat tainted history of Thanksgiving and describing how modern day Thanksgiving came to be, including: The presidential turkey pardon each year dating back to Truman and Black Friday. I never really gave much thought to this holiday as anything more than a TON of food and as I grew up, an excuse to meet old high school friends and get drunk on college vacation. Trying to convey TG's significance to a bunch of non-American teenagers and feeling the heaviness of home sickness (maladie du pays) actually gave Thanksgiving the validity that 24 years of Hallmark always tried to but could never accomplish.
The 5 Americans in Vernon created the most impressive Thanksgiving dinner of substitute ingredients that ever was and shared it with our English and German counterparts to unanimous applause. Delicious. Because if there's one thing the French and TG have in common, it's butter.
December 1st: SNOW! Yes, I've seen falling snow 2 or 3 times, and been to Tahoe and snowboarded (attempted to) but I have never lived in it. It. Is. Glorious. COLD. But glorious. It's 5 days in and I'm still giddy at the sight of the now brown clumps. Will this honeymoon period last through March (as I'm sure the snow will)? Who knows! For the time being I'm exhausting my camera and enjoying the frostbite :)
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
la maladie de home
First the film Ironman, then Arrested Development, I Love You Man, Zombieland, and True Lies, now The Sandlot??? Where does it end? Is everything filmed in LA?? I have a fabulous hard drive that I brought to France, filled with films and tv series alike but I can't watch a certain number of them because they feature beautiful, exciting, too-good-to-be-true visuals of Los Angeles and various neighborhoods I used to frequent 2 months ago. It's aggravating. I just started watching The Sandlot, heard the phrase "The Valley" and clicked out. I can't handle this. Obvi I'm adjusting fine, wrists intact, but I made the mistake of watching the series finale of Sex and the City (based in New York, mind you) where Carrie goes to Paris and has difficulty adjusting to life there, experiences culture shock, doesn't speak the language fluently, and misses her 3 best friends, and totally fell apart. I spoke with another friend today and found out she had a bad night recently too. Homesickness: it's catching.
When I rule out obvious LA references (to- my old life, routines, comfort, stability, family, security blanket, total and serene peaceful existence) and films I've already watched, I'm left with the remaining films on my hard drive: Love Actually, The Notebook, and Romeo & Juliet. Though lovesickness is a fate worse than longing for your country, R&J features the most violence of the three and for that must be commended above its competitors. And it practically features psychedelic drugs as an indirect lead so what's not to like? Really if there was a giant Ecstasy pill bemoaning the "Ides of March" after Mercutio's drag dance number it couldn't be any more of a major plot indicator.
Hide yo kids! Hide yo husband! HSN is comin' for ya.
Bah.
When I rule out obvious LA references (to- my old life, routines, comfort, stability, family, security blanket, total and serene peaceful existence) and films I've already watched, I'm left with the remaining films on my hard drive: Love Actually, The Notebook, and Romeo & Juliet. Though lovesickness is a fate worse than longing for your country, R&J features the most violence of the three and for that must be commended above its competitors. And it practically features psychedelic drugs as an indirect lead so what's not to like? Really if there was a giant Ecstasy pill bemoaning the "Ides of March" after Mercutio's drag dance number it couldn't be any more of a major plot indicator.
Hide yo kids! Hide yo husband! HSN is comin' for ya.
Bah.
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