I climbed out onto the roof last night, and this was the view.
Another Update from Life Less Plastic
9 years ago
Friday, October 31, 2008
See: Celebrity
Celebrity
And now I will explain. A few weeks back, Kendra and I were talking about how "famous" we felt every time we went to our schools. The students immediately fell in love with us because we came from so far to be their English teachers. We used the term "celebrity," loosely, without knowing what, in fact, was required to gain true celebrity-hood.
Wikipedia played its part in squashing our dreams, informing us that we needed media attention to officially become celebrities.
Lo and behold, the very next day the local newspaper called up and wanted to interview Americans on the upcoming presidential election. Media attention.
The interview process was a hoot. Kendra and I had our photos taken out on the street and the entire office said they could hear us laughing from inside. We started in French, and then, having to bounce some ideas off of each other in English, discovered that the journalist spoke even better English then we could manage in his language.
It was a really interesting experience, and one that helped Kendra and me articulate our feelings on the political environment of our country.
We were also interviewed about Halloween, or as the article says, "All Hallow Even." Both of us were relieved not to have been asked what our costumes were going to be: Pepe LePew style French men.
Happy Halloween!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Fantastitsky
Things I did yesterday:
- inadvertently ate nail polish
- had an inflight beer on my way to Prague
Things I'll do today:
- get a hair cut in Czech
- buy thousands of crowns
Czech it out.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Off to Prague!
You know who I voted for... By the time I get home to Gueret, the U.S. will have decided (hopefully) upon a new president! Go and vote! Vote vote vote!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Montpellier
I was born, bred, raised, programmed and otherwise created to be part of a family. Chaos is comfort. So, much to my happy surprise, I find myself staying with an Midwestern American family in the city where I first experienced France: Montpellier. The Mediterranean out our window every morning, and downtown a short bus ride away, our vacation is starting off wonderfully.
We went to church this morning. Kendra and I got into the Sunday School masks... We spent the afternoon lazing on the beach, dipping our feet in the water and chasing minnows. Family dinner was followed by doing the dishes assembly line style, while performing a Beatles rhapsody.
We all speak Frenglish together, which is amusing to no end. The two girls, ages 11 and 12, bickering and the dog, Moses Jones, barking nonstop, is all music to my ears. I appreciate having a mom and a dad and a bedtime to help my burn through my cold as we head to Prague in a few days.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Celebrity
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
A celebrity is a widely-recognized or famous person who commands a high degree of public and media attention.
The word stems from the Latin verb "celebrere" but they may not become a celebrity unless public and mass media interest is piqued.
A celebrity is a widely-recognized or famous person who commands a high degree of public and media attention.
The word stems from the Latin verb "celebrere" but they may not become a celebrity unless public and mass media interest is piqued.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Wellies!
It's raining today. We have the day off. It's very awkward to buy rubber boots at a grocery store. More awkward is changing out of our wet shoes into the boots. Lots of people staring.
It's Complicated
In order to become a "Living Language Assistant" in France, you must be fluent in English (mother tongue is a preference, though not required), fill out an application, copy it three times, attach photographs for each copy, request recommendation letters, mail it, wait for acceptance, accept acceptance, purchase a ticket to France, schedule an appointment at your nearest French Consulate, make 3 copies of every piece of correspondence from the French Ministry of Education, arrive at said French Consulate, hand over said copies and voila! You have a visa that allows you to stay in France for three months, and also allows you to apply for a "Carte de Sejour," a residency card that is valid for 12 months.
This is standard for any kind of application to a program abroad, and painless...
Then you arrive in France, and every thing's going smoothly, and SPLAT! You've just fallen into a pit of quick sand, better known as French bureaucracy. Dig this: in order to get paid, you have to have a bank account. To have a bank account, you have to have an address and proof that you've applied for your "carte de sejour."
In order to have an address you have to have a bank account to pay for said lodging, or ask for proof that you've been housed somewhere. In order to have proof that you've been housed somewhere you have to go to the "Inspection Academique" and request an "attestation de logement" which must be printed on official stationary, and signed by Mr. Inspector himself.
In order to have proof that you've applied for your "carte de sejour," you have to apply for your "carte de sejour." This requires asking for a "proces verbal" which must have three signatures and copied 4 times. Again, Mr. Inspector signs this. You have to have copies of all the documents which were sent to you in the US, plus copies of your birth certificate and passport, and have had visited a doctor to make sure that you're in good health.
In order to visit a doctor approved by the school district, you have to have mailed a piece of paper to an association that manages the foreign workforce who will then send you a date and time when you have an appointment with said doctor. You have to go to the doctor's appointment and get a piece of paper that says that you are healthy enough to benefit from the health coverage provided by the government.
You have to have applied for a social security number to receive both your salary and medical coverage. You have to have a bank account to apply for a social security number.
You have to have an address to apply for a bank account. (Yes, I'm dizzy too). In order to rent an apartment to have an address (and a place to live), you have to have a bank account.
You have to go through a realtor.
You have to have renter's insurance.
You have to pay one month's rent and agency fees equivalent to one month's rent and renter's taxes for the entire year.
In order to pay these fees you have to have a bank account.
I'm working on getting a bank account, and regaining my balance.
The thing is, nobody seems to be in a hurry, and neither am I. I come from the country of instant gratification and I actually am enjoying the lacking sense of urgency throughout this entire process. These things will be sorted out and in the mean time, I get to focus on teaching, experimenting with food, and my French.
I'm so lucky to have such cool little brother. Gabe wrote my students a letter which I've turned into a worksheet. They will have to recognize words we've learned in class, and guess the meaning of others. Gabe will probably feel like a movie star because their homework will be to respond to his letter.
I've been spending my hours after work in the chemistry lab that is my kitchen. Creativity with food has been what's happening as I acclimate myself to nothing being open on Sundays or Mondays and almost everything closed at 5pm. Living in the Creuse feels a tad more French than when I was in Montpellier or Paris.
Cultivating my penchant for nerdy linguistic activities, I made myself a dictionary of words and colloquial sayings that I learn along this journey. I modeled it after one that belonged to a teacher whose students I teach. I didn't ask, but it looks like she made one for each of her 25 students. It is complete with tabs (hand cut) for each letter of the alphabet.
You know how you remember an adult having told you something in your youth, and you, thinking it was idiotic thing, tossed it aside in disgust only to realize later how relevant it really was? This happens most often with our mothers. Well, to all of my French teachers EVER: Keeping a personal dictionary is an awesome thing. Thanks, and sorry (to me) for not taking the time. You were right. (You too, mom).
I'll remind you all again to look at my brother's blog: THIS IS A BLOG at blogger.com. He posted some beautiful pictures of Minneapolis, including some interesting angles of the Franklin Avenue bridge and great ones of the Midtown Farmer's Market. Fall is in full swing here, and the temperature keeps flip flopping. It is very similar to a Minnesota fall, though I miss seeing the Mighty Mississippi aflame as the trees change.
I walked around Courtille on Sunday, and I think every other person in Gueret thought to do the same. Beautiful sunny afternoon, kids, dogs, picnics, petanques, bicycles, and lovers.
I thank the powers that be for letting me live and work in Gueret. I am one lucky girl.
This is standard for any kind of application to a program abroad, and painless...
Then you arrive in France, and every thing's going smoothly, and SPLAT! You've just fallen into a pit of quick sand, better known as French bureaucracy. Dig this: in order to get paid, you have to have a bank account. To have a bank account, you have to have an address and proof that you've applied for your "carte de sejour."
In order to have an address you have to have a bank account to pay for said lodging, or ask for proof that you've been housed somewhere. In order to have proof that you've been housed somewhere you have to go to the "Inspection Academique" and request an "attestation de logement" which must be printed on official stationary, and signed by Mr. Inspector himself.
In order to have proof that you've applied for your "carte de sejour," you have to apply for your "carte de sejour." This requires asking for a "proces verbal" which must have three signatures and copied 4 times. Again, Mr. Inspector signs this. You have to have copies of all the documents which were sent to you in the US, plus copies of your birth certificate and passport, and have had visited a doctor to make sure that you're in good health.
In order to visit a doctor approved by the school district, you have to have mailed a piece of paper to an association that manages the foreign workforce who will then send you a date and time when you have an appointment with said doctor. You have to go to the doctor's appointment and get a piece of paper that says that you are healthy enough to benefit from the health coverage provided by the government.
You have to have applied for a social security number to receive both your salary and medical coverage. You have to have a bank account to apply for a social security number.
You have to have an address to apply for a bank account. (Yes, I'm dizzy too). In order to rent an apartment to have an address (and a place to live), you have to have a bank account.
You have to go through a realtor.
You have to have renter's insurance.
You have to pay one month's rent and agency fees equivalent to one month's rent and renter's taxes for the entire year.
In order to pay these fees you have to have a bank account.
I'm working on getting a bank account, and regaining my balance.
The thing is, nobody seems to be in a hurry, and neither am I. I come from the country of instant gratification and I actually am enjoying the lacking sense of urgency throughout this entire process. These things will be sorted out and in the mean time, I get to focus on teaching, experimenting with food, and my French.
I'm so lucky to have such cool little brother. Gabe wrote my students a letter which I've turned into a worksheet. They will have to recognize words we've learned in class, and guess the meaning of others. Gabe will probably feel like a movie star because their homework will be to respond to his letter.
I've been spending my hours after work in the chemistry lab that is my kitchen. Creativity with food has been what's happening as I acclimate myself to nothing being open on Sundays or Mondays and almost everything closed at 5pm. Living in the Creuse feels a tad more French than when I was in Montpellier or Paris.
Cultivating my penchant for nerdy linguistic activities, I made myself a dictionary of words and colloquial sayings that I learn along this journey. I modeled it after one that belonged to a teacher whose students I teach. I didn't ask, but it looks like she made one for each of her 25 students. It is complete with tabs (hand cut) for each letter of the alphabet.
You know how you remember an adult having told you something in your youth, and you, thinking it was idiotic thing, tossed it aside in disgust only to realize later how relevant it really was? This happens most often with our mothers. Well, to all of my French teachers EVER: Keeping a personal dictionary is an awesome thing. Thanks, and sorry (to me) for not taking the time. You were right. (You too, mom).
I'll remind you all again to look at my brother's blog: THIS IS A BLOG at blogger.com. He posted some beautiful pictures of Minneapolis, including some interesting angles of the Franklin Avenue bridge and great ones of the Midtown Farmer's Market. Fall is in full swing here, and the temperature keeps flip flopping. It is very similar to a Minnesota fall, though I miss seeing the Mighty Mississippi aflame as the trees change.
I walked around Courtille on Sunday, and I think every other person in Gueret thought to do the same. Beautiful sunny afternoon, kids, dogs, picnics, petanques, bicycles, and lovers.
I thank the powers that be for letting me live and work in Gueret. I am one lucky girl.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Teaching English 101
So I've started teaching, and it is so fun. You know that feeling you used to get before the first day of school? That feeling of incontrollable excitement that kept you up all night. Your thoughts racing: who your friends were going to be, was your teacher going to be nice or mean, what to wear... Well that was me, last night, and all weekend. Last week I had two classes on my own, but today I feel like I really started.
I forgot how much I like lesson planning, and I get to color! All the time! This week, my students are learning all the vocabulary words that go along with Halloween. I'm reading them a really cute book with lots of sound effects. I've gotten the chance to return to 2nd grade, and I couldn't have been placed at a better age level.
I teach one more full day this week and then it is vacation time. Already?! I get about two weeks off after having just started. So far, this schedule is very manageable. So Kendra and I are going to Prague and Montpellier for about a week. Should be great, I'm sure I'll have some pictures to put up from the Czech Halloween party we're going to.
Adios!
I forgot how much I like lesson planning, and I get to color! All the time! This week, my students are learning all the vocabulary words that go along with Halloween. I'm reading them a really cute book with lots of sound effects. I've gotten the chance to return to 2nd grade, and I couldn't have been placed at a better age level.
I teach one more full day this week and then it is vacation time. Already?! I get about two weeks off after having just started. So far, this schedule is very manageable. So Kendra and I are going to Prague and Montpellier for about a week. Should be great, I'm sure I'll have some pictures to put up from the Czech Halloween party we're going to.
Adios!
Friday, October 17, 2008
Tutto va bene
I stole bread from a restaurant tonight. Not because I need it, not because it's expensive, not even because I wanted it. Just because I could. I wanted to be sneaky, which I learned the word for in French today. Voila.
My brother started a blog which is totally awesome and you should all read it:
http://whoatotallysycadellicman.blogspot.com/
My brother started a blog which is totally awesome and you should all read it:
http://whoatotallysycadellicman.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
It's getting better all the time!
So the dip in the graph was confined to the weekend. My ankle is getting better my life is settling into a rhythm here in Gueret. I move into my new apartment next Wednesday! I met all my students this week and started teaching! Kendra and I are planning our trip to Prague for next week!
I added pictures to paint the picture of my suffering. All is good. I'm in love with what I'm doing.
I added pictures to paint the picture of my suffering. All is good. I'm in love with what I'm doing.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I'm trying to see the beauty in your existence
Woe is me. At almost four weeks, I've reached what has been described to me as a dip in the graph of happiness and enjoyment of living abroad. I write this not to complain, nor to express a desire to change anything about what I'm doing, but to honestly describe my experiences. If it were all sunshine and flowers, how bored would I be? And how mistaken would you be, upon embarking on a journey of your own, having read my deceptive blog extolling on how happy I was the entire time, to later find out that, in fact, stupid shit really does happen?I sprained my ankle, yes. Its green and black and I can hobble around just fine. Kendra and I trained back from Paris yesterday afternoon to the soothing sounds of Dan Savage and his weekly sex advice column podcast. We arrived back to La Souterraine having exchanged crappy grey Paris weather for clear blue skies, sun, and warmth. We opened up all the windows in her apartment relieved with the feeling of "home," and took her guitar and my gimp self to the cemetery.
It was there that we spent the rest of the day staring at the sky, putting on a concert for all the lovely French people resting in peace (what a great audience), and later exploring the mausoleums of other dearly departed and discovering a broom that was too much like a witch's not to straddle it and pose for pictures.
Our plan was to return to the "Creperie Occitane" for dinner, but we were sorely disappointed to find out that on Saturday night, you need a reservation. Could it be because it is the only restaurant worth a squirt of piss that is open? Naive and hungry, we walked down the street to a "Cafe Restaurant," where we had enjoyed coffee before and so decided to give their dinner menu a try.
Neither of us have to vocabulary to know what we were ordering, but we figured we'd find out when we got home to our dictionaries. I ordered "museau," and Kendra ordered "andouillette paysanne." Translation: Pig snouts and intestines stuffed with intestines stuffed with intestines. My dear friend, steel-lined stomach that she wishes she had, attacks the dinner after saying "I want to join the PeaceCorps, I'm going to have to learn how to eat this."
Anyone who knows me can vouch for the fact that I've come a long way from my adolescent attitudes toward food. I even, at times, consider my self adventurous when it comes to eating. This was an instance that required not an adventurous spirit, but a discerning palette. Bad food is the same in every corner of the world, and in any language.
To add to our dining experience, a group of totally trashed young fools were sitting outside next to us. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little jealous of their inebriation and complete disregard to their surroundings. One of the guys was violently ill all throughout the meal. He was actually coughing to the point of vomiting. He stood up every 10 minutes, walked to the bushes and did what Kendra and I so envied to do; threw up his dinner.
We returned home, frazzled and exhausted, trading fits of laughter for the tears welling up in our eyes, and went to bed.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Nana Pub
Oh, Genevieve. A trip would not be complete with out its fare share of injuries. In my case, a sprained ankle.Kendra and I planned a lovely weekend in Paris before we start teaching on Monday, complete with a day trip to Versailles, mass at Notre Dame, and lots of walking.
Never in our wildest dreams would we have taken a two and a half hour train from Creuse to come to Paris, have coffee, check in to a hotel and sit on our computers. Dreams can come true, because not 45 minutes after stepping off the train at Gare d'Austerlitz was I stumbling like a 95 year old drunk Gumbi in front of what felt like the entire city of Paris. I heard my ankle 'pop' and knew I would be taking up residence on the sidewalk for a while.
As I was falling, I looked up at Kendra and explained, "This is my ankle."
An older man insisted that I couldn't sit on the ground, and could he call an ambulance? And oh, by the way, the French love the Americans because so many of us died for France in the war. That counts, you know.
So my 6' tall, Gobles, MI born and bred dear friend Kendra served as my pack horse, crutches, tour guide and body guard for what seemed like the longest walk of our lives. We saw the metro stations in an entirely new light at the blinding rate we were traveling. Enough time to thoroughly study, translate, discuss, and ridicule every ad posted on the wall. Enough time to practice saying "I can see Alaska from my house," until we couldn't tell each other apart from pitbulls, without lipstick, that is.
Arriving at the hotel was a relief. We exhaled, plugged in and zoned out. Sick, right? Mady came to see us, picked up an ace bandage and an ice pack and then peaced out to go be doted upon by all of the men in Paris. Kendra went to find food and came back with a bottle of wine and two packages of cookies. After 15 minutes all that was left was a package of cookies.
I couldn't submit to the will of the world, and well my ankle. So I decided we needed to leave our hotel room, and see the Eiffel Tower in all of its gaudy glory lit up at night. 19 metro stops later, we arrived to find not the Eiffel Tower but a giant neon blue look alike paying homage to the EU. What the hell? It sparkles too...
The Seine is beautiful by night, and the sound of jingling Eiffel Tower key chains is music to my ears. "Hallo girls, wan you-roh wan you-roh. Hallo!!" A few steps more and I would've fallen and sprained the other ankle. We hailed a cab and saw the rest of Friday night Paris in October as a blurred stream of bistro signs, cigarette butts, pursed Parisian lips in the midst of heated conversation and finally a glowing beacon in the night: our hotel. Good night Paris, better luck next time.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Love, Brigitte Bardot
The first thing I saw in the news today when I opened my computer was a headline in French announcing that Brigitte Bardot had written Sara Palin a letter. How sweet.
Yesterday I had a grand tour of all four schools where I will be teaching. Little by little, I am learning the ins and outs of the French education system. I have students from age 6 to 10, and they all seem so excited to learn English, and impressed that their new "maitresse" is from the United States.
When I was introduced and they found out where I come from, there was a loud gasp all across the room and their eyes popped! Everyone knows about New York, some about Hollywood, and Barack Obama. A few knew Denver, pronounced "Dahn-vay," but none of the children, or teachers, know where Minneapolis is. Their homework for our first class is to locate it on a map.
After spending a day in the schools, meeting students and colleagues, walking around Gueret is a completely new experience. I've been recognized on the street as the new American teacher, and so warmly welcomed.
Yesterday I had a grand tour of all four schools where I will be teaching. Little by little, I am learning the ins and outs of the French education system. I have students from age 6 to 10, and they all seem so excited to learn English, and impressed that their new "maitresse" is from the United States.
When I was introduced and they found out where I come from, there was a loud gasp all across the room and their eyes popped! Everyone knows about New York, some about Hollywood, and Barack Obama. A few knew Denver, pronounced "Dahn-vay," but none of the children, or teachers, know where Minneapolis is. Their homework for our first class is to locate it on a map.
After spending a day in the schools, meeting students and colleagues, walking around Gueret is a completely new experience. I've been recognized on the street as the new American teacher, and so warmly welcomed.
Je te danse!
This may be my future home... so cute and so clean and the bed is bigger than an airplane seat. Always a plus.
A few pictures from this weekend in La Souterraine with Kendra, complete with our shock at realizing we took the wrong train, a picture of the Limoges train station, Kendra and Rachel (another assistant), the Saturday morning market in La Sout, and a little city scene. So quaint!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Ces bottes sont faites pour marcher...
OCTOBER 3
What a difference a day makes. Twenty-four little hours. Today started off like a dream. I woke up at 6:30 am without an alarm, had freshly cleaned clothes, and was ready to trot off to Limoges for orientation to my job. And then, upon arriving to the station a few minutes late, I was relieved to see that our train was late too! An hour later, the loudspeaker announced that we had arrived in Chateauroux, a town one hour in the wrong direction from Limoges. Shhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
The next train didn't come for another hour and would take an hour and a half and then another half hour on a bus, getting us to our meeting at noon, just in time to sign some papers, get really confused, and go to lunch. The better part of the afternoon was dedicated to other assistants who needed to figure out their schedules and an introduction to lesson planning (which we had already done a few times this week). So, our trip to Limoges was worthwhile for about 15 minutes and then it was time to get the hell out of there and attempt to have a better day.
I'm spending the weekend with Kendra, who has an apartment as enormous as mine in the middle school in La Souterraine. We moved her in today and then went to a restaurant for dinner. We found the most adorable lovely delicious inviting "créperie," with about 7 tables and many families dining together. I had an admirer from across the room all night; a 4 year old Italian boy making eyes and funny faces at me to the point of incontrollable giggles. I think I might have pissed his dad off after a while because I was provoking such impolite table manners, but I didn't care, we were in love!
The food was, of course, amazing. Buckwheat crêpes called "galettes," cooked on a pan with lots of butter, filled with house made andouille sausage, fried onions, and emmental. A carafe of house wine and we were rosy cheeked American girls with nothing to do but enjoy! We spent the remainder of our waking hours speaking in French, looking up words that we felt were pertinent to know: gate, fence, slippery hill, climbing, jumping, tripping, falling. Needless to say our trek home was quite the adventure!
What a difference a day makes. Twenty-four little hours. Today started off like a dream. I woke up at 6:30 am without an alarm, had freshly cleaned clothes, and was ready to trot off to Limoges for orientation to my job. And then, upon arriving to the station a few minutes late, I was relieved to see that our train was late too! An hour later, the loudspeaker announced that we had arrived in Chateauroux, a town one hour in the wrong direction from Limoges. Shhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
The next train didn't come for another hour and would take an hour and a half and then another half hour on a bus, getting us to our meeting at noon, just in time to sign some papers, get really confused, and go to lunch. The better part of the afternoon was dedicated to other assistants who needed to figure out their schedules and an introduction to lesson planning (which we had already done a few times this week). So, our trip to Limoges was worthwhile for about 15 minutes and then it was time to get the hell out of there and attempt to have a better day.
I'm spending the weekend with Kendra, who has an apartment as enormous as mine in the middle school in La Souterraine. We moved her in today and then went to a restaurant for dinner. We found the most adorable lovely delicious inviting "créperie," with about 7 tables and many families dining together. I had an admirer from across the room all night; a 4 year old Italian boy making eyes and funny faces at me to the point of incontrollable giggles. I think I might have pissed his dad off after a while because I was provoking such impolite table manners, but I didn't care, we were in love!
The food was, of course, amazing. Buckwheat crêpes called "galettes," cooked on a pan with lots of butter, filled with house made andouille sausage, fried onions, and emmental. A carafe of house wine and we were rosy cheeked American girls with nothing to do but enjoy! We spent the remainder of our waking hours speaking in French, looking up words that we felt were pertinent to know: gate, fence, slippery hill, climbing, jumping, tripping, falling. Needless to say our trek home was quite the adventure!
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Zut Alors!
Well, another great start to a day. I woke up, took a bath, got dressed, and started doing the dishes for breakfast. I put my hand and the sponge into a mug, took one swipe and blod was everywhere. I sliced my pinky finger with a shard of porcelain that was sticking out of a crack inside of the mug. Half an inch long and deep enough to almost touch the bone, it is really disgusting and painful and should probably have stitches but I think a "Made in France" scar would be the ultimate souvenir. Ahhh! I have a picture, but I'll spare you.
After I bought some antiseptic and "blood stop" bandages, we made our way to the Saturday morning market. It is in a beautiful grove of trees and has everything from matresses to chickens to prunes. Big, stinky wheels of cheese no smaller than a large dog, farm fresh eggs and artisan breads and sausages. I went to take a picture of the cheese and the woman was not happy that she might be in it, yelling "Oh la la!," as she ran to hide. Oops.
We stocked up on beets, zucchini, tomatoes, lettuce, strawberries, garlic, and the best baguette I've had so far in France. We came home for a rest and because everything is closed from noon to 2 o'clock.
This cute town, it takes 5 minutes to walk from one end to another and has the medieval city wall still standing with different "doors" into the city. All the roads are in a circle around it, and it makes it feel as big as New York City to a stranger. We walked to the "outskirts" of the city to a junk store, kind of like Tuesday Morning in the States. The first thing you see as you walk into the store is a shelf of porn and flesh covered tea pots that have penises as their spouts. Oh. La. La. I welcome any special orders, at a small fee.
I found a funeral home across the street and had to go inside. I think its safe to say that I'm missing a certain American mortician, and that drew me in. The thing I've noticed about this region is that there are loads of babies and old people, and therefore, loads of schools, pharmacies, and funeral homes. I talked to the directore, who complimented my "perfect" French, and left.
I then had my first experience at the infamous French "hypermarché," a step up from the super market, its a HYPER market. What grocery store lets you have a glass of wine and foie gras as their sample?! This is ludicrous and delicious and should be implemented in all stores everywhere. Shopping has never been so relaxing.
We returned home, I cooked, we feasted and had a bottle of Bordeaux, and then went to the movies. La Souterraine has a one-theatre movie house, connected to the little public library. It was playing an Egyptian film titled "Chaos," in Arabic, with French subtitles. Two hours of cheesy soap opera drama, gratuitous and disturbing violence, and the pleasant portayal of real voluptious women as sexy and beautiful, we walked out of there so satisfied having simply understood what happened. Our language skills surprised and delighted us, even if the movie was bad.
**pictures coming soon**
After I bought some antiseptic and "blood stop" bandages, we made our way to the Saturday morning market. It is in a beautiful grove of trees and has everything from matresses to chickens to prunes. Big, stinky wheels of cheese no smaller than a large dog, farm fresh eggs and artisan breads and sausages. I went to take a picture of the cheese and the woman was not happy that she might be in it, yelling "Oh la la!," as she ran to hide. Oops.
We stocked up on beets, zucchini, tomatoes, lettuce, strawberries, garlic, and the best baguette I've had so far in France. We came home for a rest and because everything is closed from noon to 2 o'clock.
This cute town, it takes 5 minutes to walk from one end to another and has the medieval city wall still standing with different "doors" into the city. All the roads are in a circle around it, and it makes it feel as big as New York City to a stranger. We walked to the "outskirts" of the city to a junk store, kind of like Tuesday Morning in the States. The first thing you see as you walk into the store is a shelf of porn and flesh covered tea pots that have penises as their spouts. Oh. La. La. I welcome any special orders, at a small fee.
I found a funeral home across the street and had to go inside. I think its safe to say that I'm missing a certain American mortician, and that drew me in. The thing I've noticed about this region is that there are loads of babies and old people, and therefore, loads of schools, pharmacies, and funeral homes. I talked to the directore, who complimented my "perfect" French, and left.
I then had my first experience at the infamous French "hypermarché," a step up from the super market, its a HYPER market. What grocery store lets you have a glass of wine and foie gras as their sample?! This is ludicrous and delicious and should be implemented in all stores everywhere. Shopping has never been so relaxing.
We returned home, I cooked, we feasted and had a bottle of Bordeaux, and then went to the movies. La Souterraine has a one-theatre movie house, connected to the little public library. It was playing an Egyptian film titled "Chaos," in Arabic, with French subtitles. Two hours of cheesy soap opera drama, gratuitous and disturbing violence, and the pleasant portayal of real voluptious women as sexy and beautiful, we walked out of there so satisfied having simply understood what happened. Our language skills surprised and delighted us, even if the movie was bad.
**pictures coming soon**
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Le Livre de Jungle
So, turns out Disney is really awful in French. Kendra and I were watching the Jungle Book tonight because it is one of my favorites and it was featured in one of our lesson plans today... Oy! No thanks.
I had my first day of "work" today. Les francais really know how to do it. We all met at 9 for coffee and sweets and then went about the work of talking with each other about the parameters of our jobs as teachers. Then it was time for lunch--and I know what you're wondering, the answer is yes it DOES take 2 hours to have a proper midday meal--le plat du jour was an enormous pork chop with mashed potatoes, "puree de la maison," and gravy, with apricot mousse and cafe for dessert.
We spent the entire afternoon attempting to sort through all of our schedules, and our training for the next few weeks. I have four different schools I will be working in, but never work on Wednesdays (the kids only go to school MTThF here!), and only once per month on Fridays. Uffdah, ya!
We ate dinner at chez Evelyne, she made quiche, with fresh eggs from the farm nextdoor, which was delicious. I got to taste "gateau creusois," which is a moist buttery cake made with hazlenuts, egg whites and flour. Yum.
I've started noticing the regional specialties and this is what I have sofar: the aforementioned cake, baguette a la gueretoise which I have yet to see or taste, and pate aux pomme de terres which looks like an enormous baked brie with a crown, golden buttery crust and thinly sliced potatoes and cream on the inside. Looks amazing and Evelyne's mother apparently has a recipe that I might someday get my hands on!
Kendra and I are planning our vacation at the end of October which starts on the 24th and goes until the 6th of November. We will most likely go to Paris and visit Mady, meet Tomas (the older brother of an exchange student of my grandparents...), go with him to a soccer game in Kaiserslautern, Germany, and then from there fly to Prague to visit a friend of Kendra's, fly to Montpellier to stay with family friends of Kendra's, and train back to Limoges when it is time to go back to work.
Sounds like a lot, but with people we know, Ryanair flying free from Frankfurt to Prague (and only 15 euro to Montpellier), and our "Cartes 12-25" from SNCF (cutting our train fares in half), it is entirely possible to do it on the cheap. How can you not love Europe at this age?!
We'll see where our travel ambitions lead us.
I had my first day of "work" today. Les francais really know how to do it. We all met at 9 for coffee and sweets and then went about the work of talking with each other about the parameters of our jobs as teachers. Then it was time for lunch--and I know what you're wondering, the answer is yes it DOES take 2 hours to have a proper midday meal--le plat du jour was an enormous pork chop with mashed potatoes, "puree de la maison," and gravy, with apricot mousse and cafe for dessert.
We spent the entire afternoon attempting to sort through all of our schedules, and our training for the next few weeks. I have four different schools I will be working in, but never work on Wednesdays (the kids only go to school MTThF here!), and only once per month on Fridays. Uffdah, ya!
We ate dinner at chez Evelyne, she made quiche, with fresh eggs from the farm nextdoor, which was delicious. I got to taste "gateau creusois," which is a moist buttery cake made with hazlenuts, egg whites and flour. Yum.
I've started noticing the regional specialties and this is what I have sofar: the aforementioned cake, baguette a la gueretoise which I have yet to see or taste, and pate aux pomme de terres which looks like an enormous baked brie with a crown, golden buttery crust and thinly sliced potatoes and cream on the inside. Looks amazing and Evelyne's mother apparently has a recipe that I might someday get my hands on!
Kendra and I are planning our vacation at the end of October which starts on the 24th and goes until the 6th of November. We will most likely go to Paris and visit Mady, meet Tomas (the older brother of an exchange student of my grandparents...), go with him to a soccer game in Kaiserslautern, Germany, and then from there fly to Prague to visit a friend of Kendra's, fly to Montpellier to stay with family friends of Kendra's, and train back to Limoges when it is time to go back to work.
Sounds like a lot, but with people we know, Ryanair flying free from Frankfurt to Prague (and only 15 euro to Montpellier), and our "Cartes 12-25" from SNCF (cutting our train fares in half), it is entirely possible to do it on the cheap. How can you not love Europe at this age?!
We'll see where our travel ambitions lead us.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
News in Gueret
As I am spending part of my afternoon reading the news, I find an article on the NY Times website that seems to be a French perspective of American politics as seen from an American point of view, which, I suppose is something I could offer as I spend more time picking the brains of those around me.
In other news, I have found, and this is for Britches, and IRISH PUB in Gueret. They're everywhere and we're going to write a guide book.
I'm spending my first night alone here as Kendra has gone off to move into her high school accommodations in La Souterraine. We start classroom observations tomorrow and I get to have a sleepover at Evelyne's house again (yay!), and then its off to the big city of Limoges!
We have an orientation for all of the assistants in the Limousin region, and there are around 200 from all over the world. I think it will be a mass exodus from the train station on Friday morning.
Not much else, I love it here and my body does too. I get to cook for myself again and buy really cheap wine. Sending much love!
In other news, I have found, and this is for Britches, and IRISH PUB in Gueret. They're everywhere and we're going to write a guide book.
I'm spending my first night alone here as Kendra has gone off to move into her high school accommodations in La Souterraine. We start classroom observations tomorrow and I get to have a sleepover at Evelyne's house again (yay!), and then its off to the big city of Limoges!
We have an orientation for all of the assistants in the Limousin region, and there are around 200 from all over the world. I think it will be a mass exodus from the train station on Friday morning.
Not much else, I love it here and my body does too. I get to cook for myself again and buy really cheap wine. Sending much love!
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