Obstacles

Here's what currently stands between me and being home:

-5 English lessons, to 8 different groups of extremely excited and Christmas-ready students

-1 train ride to Paris

-1 night in a hostel

-1 RER ride out to Roissy-CDG

-The confusing, distressing, exasperating mayhem of that horrendously laid out airport

-1 very long plane ride to Chicago

-1 long layover in Chicago

-1 flight to Lexington

I hope not to have to add snow and flight delays to this list!!

Always a spectacle

It's been one Christmas activity after another these last few days, with yesterday being the repas de Noël at Fracasse (an eclectic meal of foie gras salad, carrot sticks, green beans wrapped in bacon, homemade nuggets and oddly shaped French fries, and bûche de Noël), followed by a decadent goûter de Noël (aka Christmas snack) at Breney, where I led my students in singing Jingle Bells and the other Christmas classic, Baa Baa Black Sheep (there's French Christmas song with the same melody, so the teachers wanted me to teach it to the students as the English equivalent) and then watched them eat one pain au chocolat after another. And here's a story to show how ridiculous my students sometimes are: 5 year old Charlotte, after insisting that the Santa who had come to see them sing wasn't the real one (she had a point--this Santa seemed to have been dieting), told me that I should go give him a bisous on his moustache.  I declined.

Today many of our students at Fracasse (and some of their younger siblings from Breney) met at the place du marché to sing to Père Noël.  We all sang Petit Papa Noël, Petit Garçon, We Wish You a Merry Christmas, and All I Want for Christmas Is You (by Mariah Carey) more or less successfully, and then we got a police escort to the Salle des Fêtes for the little play a handful of students had been practicing on their Wednesdays off. 

Me, Katherine, Cathya, and Clara (whose rouged cheeks were for the spectacle) after we finished singing

You only see the back of his head here, but there he is, Santa in the flesh!

Katherine, Calysta, Ivan, and the ridiculous but fun Shadé handing out programs before the spectacle

The spectacle itself was pretty cute, barring this one weird song about toys that had been made in Asia (guess China was too specific) that made repeated references to sweatshop labor.  The real fun began afterwards, however, when the band came out and the children did fun circle dances.  The parents were invited to join in, and Katherine, Cathya and I decided we should as well.  The band did an excellent job of facilitating the dances, and it was fun to have different kids run over to invite me to dance with them when we made little circles.  I guess I've found my element at the elementary school--I'm never a wallflower!  Another high point was when we danced the Boogie Woogie, the French version of the Hokey Pokey.  I got some compliments on my dancing from my coworkers who were there, and the parents seemed appreciative that I was playing with their children.  All in all, a good time was had by all.

Let's compare Katherine's charm with my inability to keep my mouth shut as the picture is being taken.  At least Santa and I match!

Before I decided to join in the circle dancing.

Me, Tom, and Louis (two of my best kindergarten English students).  Aren't they cute?

Advent

I never had a chocolate advent calendar growing up (just a really cool Playmobil one!), but when I saw this at LeClerc a few weeks ago I couldn't resist.  Guess which calendar is mine!  (Here's a hint: Qui habite un ananas sous l'océan?)  After I committed a roommate faux pas by opening day one of my calendar all by myself we have since been ceremoniously opening them together (Katherine has a calendar too; it was just MIA).  Moreover, I am required to show what nifty Sponge Bob shape my chocolate piece is in, since it seems that I can be a little to quick about gobbling up poor Patrick.

 Completing the aura of Christmas spirit in our house is our slightly bizarre Chirstmas tree.  Having Santa on the top reminds me of how in Harry Potter Fred and George capture a garden gnome and dress him up as the angel to go on their Christmas tree.

I'll be home in 5 days!

Marché de Noël!

Based on Lydia's suggestion, John, Cathya, Katherine, and I traveled to St. Pierre-sur-Dives yesterday afternoon for its Christmas market.  I really enjoyed visiting the Christmas markets in Rennes and Lyon the last time I was here, so when Lydia mentioned this market images of chocolate dipped fruit and vin chaud vendors popped into my head.  St Pierre is a tiny village, so its market was a little less elaborate than the ones I visited in the past, but I had a good time nonetheless.  Here's the link to the program, in case you're interested: http://www.mairie-saint-pierre-sur-dives.fr/pageLibre0001059d.html
It's worth clicking on just to see the medieval hall that where the marché was held.  

While it was definitely lacking in the the chocolate dipped fruit department, we still gave some business to the booth selling vin chaud (hot spiced wine) and crepes.  80 centimes for a crepe nutella!  What a steal!

Enjoying our vin chaud.

Even though I didn't see many things I wanted to buy, there were still some neat booths.  For example, the hand-knitted angora clothing vendors brought one of their fluffy bunnies with them.  Her name is Gwendoline, and she was very nice and happy to be petted.  We also spoke to her owner, who gave us a brochure for their bunny farm and told us that we could meet the whole crew if we visited (sur rendez-vous, of course)...and, if we wanted, we could watch a 10 minute video about the the shaving of the bunnies.  For some reason, I think I'll pass.

GWEN!!

 

Doesn't she just look like a cloud?  She was a soft as she looks.

Also of interest were the living nativity scene (complete with preening chickens, a cow, a donkey, and some baby sheep you were allowed to pet) and the community band's Christmas concert.  Santa Claus came from the North Pole to conduct (you could tell better in real life), though apparently he's an Olivia Newton John fan since Physical got played.

I didn't think I would see anyone I knew in St. Pierre-sur-Dives, but I guess I was wrong.  Looks like Frosty has a French twin!!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

For a supposedly secular country, France really loves its Christmas lights and decorations.  Deauville has nothing on Rennes in terms of window decorations, but its lights still add a little something special to the evening as I walk home from school in the pitch dark at 5.30.  

In front of the Casino, which, admittedly, is generally nicely lit up.   This was the same night Katherine and I decided to go stargazing on the boardwalk.

The Mairie.

Looking at the flower shop near our house.

Place Morny.  Walking under all these lights is kind of a neat sensation; it almost feels like a very intensely starry night.

Snow(y) Day!

I think it's hard to beat snow days as I remember them in my childhood: waking up in the middle of the night because the moon is radiating so brightly off the snow, getting a special breakfast in the middle of the week, spending 30 minutes getting dressed in more layers than you can find in most sedimentary rocks, sledding for hours and then ringing the doorbell for Mom to bring out hot cocoa in those little Gulf gas station mugs...  

We woke up this morning to the first real accumulation of snow of the year (at most an inch), and based on what we experienced today I'd say it's safe to say that snow days are celebrated differently here in Deauville.  I've been asking every French person I know for a couple of weeks now if schools are ever canceled for snow here in the hopes that someone would be able to recall an instance.  Sadly, the response is always the same: School is never canceled and if the roads are too dangerous people just stay home.  Such was the case today.  This is what rue Gambetta looked like as I walked to work this morning at 8.35 am:

Even though that may not be the most daunting image in the world, many parents kept their kids at home today.  There were about 6 students missing from my first class of the morning, the grande section, but the moyenne section class that I teach next had only 13 out of 28 students in attendance.  Since that's the size of the normal half-class that I take at a time, Brigitte (their teacher) suggested that we do something fun pour en profiter (to take advantage of the snow situation), so after recess she, Annick (the aide), and I took the kids into the salle de motricité and did circle dances in English and French with them.  I don't have any strong memories of doing circle dances in preschool, but they are all about them at Breney, and for good reason: it gets the kids wiggles out while working on their direction-following skills and singing, plus they can't really get out of control because they're all holding hands.  Anyway, we ended up doing the English and French versions of the Farmer in the Dell, a song that goes "Savez-vous planter des choux a la mode de chez nous?" (Do you know how to plant cabbages like we do where we're from?) for which we used English body vocab since in the song they plant their cabbages with their toes, their back etc, and Here we go round the mulberry bush.  All in all, a fun way to teach.  Ludique, even.

The playground at Breney (before the kids scooped up every flake of snow to make a few sad looking snowmen).  The round structure you see is the famous salle de motricité)

At Fracasse my lesson plans didn't end up changing due to the snow, but I did have a few (including Marin, who is 6 years old and in love with me) throw snowballs at me.  I managed to restrain myself from throwing any back while I was at school, but as I was walking home from garderie I ran into Enguerran, a CM2 (5th grade) and a nice kid, and we spent several minutes in front of the Mairie pelting each other with snowballs.  A good end to a good day.

Place de la Mairie, taken right after I fled Enguerran's viciousness.  More snow is falling, so we'll see what tomorrow's classes bring!!

Squanto chez nous

Like the detective novelists of old, I am guilty of leaving you with a cliffhanger.  What was Thanksgiving like on rue Victor Hugo?  Who showed up?  Were we able to fit all our guests at the table or did we have to resort to the dreaded "second class citizen table"?  And, most importantly, how did the coq turn out???  Lest you expire from waiting too long with bated breath...

Thanksgiving was wonderful!  Though I would definitely have liked to be home for Thanksgiving, our celebration was the next best thing.  I came home from taking care of Felix, the 8 year old that I watch on Tuesday nights and Wednesday mornings,  to join in the fury of cleaning, chopping, baking, and stirring that soon took over our kitchen.  I nearly had a nervous breakdown about 30 minutes before our guests were supposed to arrive because I became distracted by the oven timer going off and accidentally added too much milk to the biscuits, resulting in a gluey mess and (somehow) flour all over the floor that I had just mopped.  YIKES!  Ivan has a particular love of biscuits (remember his request for us to bring him Bisquick from the US?) so I didn't want to give up.  So, a few deep breaths and quite a few gros mots later, I made a new batch (cut out with the heart cookie cutter we found in our cupboard--30 years of this program leads to the accumulation of some interesting things in the house) which, luckily turned out.  In addition to the biscuits and the rooster (which isn't quite as delicious as turkey but was still pas mal), we had: corn pudding, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, tasty fig and sausage stuffing, and for dessert pumpkin pie, apple crisp, and ice cream. 

Our neighbors Patrick and Murielle were the first over, and once I saw how flattered they were to be invited I was very pleased that we thought to include them.  Next over was our vocal friend Annie-Laure, who, it turns out, is a good match for Patrick who is quite chatty too.  At this point word must have gotten out that 28 bis was the place to be because the doorbell rang a few moments later and I opened it to find  a cardboard Native American cutout and almost died laughing.  Wielding it, of course, was Ivan (who had also donned an Uncle Sam-style hat); he told me Squanto had decided to join us.  And right behind that troublemaker was the ever-smiling Sebastien.  Alors, c'est parti.  After a bit of milling about we got people to sit down and we served the food; there were quite a few impressed exclamations about the number of dishes we had prepared.  Murielle continued to voice how impressed she was with the meal the whole night, actually: first, she commented on her surprise that Americans eat such good food, then that we listen to such good music (I had turned on some classical music that I had on my iPod).  Never being one to let a good quip go unsaid, Sebastien responded to her comments with his shock that Americans knew how to hold themselves upright at the table and that we used silverware.  Thanks for that vote of confidence, Seb.


The mix of French and American did me good.  Before dessert, we went around the table saying what we were thankful for, the Americans (sauf John) saying it in English and in French.  I don't know if our guests truly comprehended what we were doing (they seemed more concerned about their ice cream melting) but I was glad to be able to show them that this holiday is more than just getting together with family and friends to eat a lot (as lovely as that is).  In general, it was wonderful to be able to have a reason to strengthen our friendships with our colleagues and neighbors and to share our culture, and a lot of fun to get to talk to them all in such a relaxed and chaleureux setting.


Other highlights of the evening:
-When I began putting jam on my delicious biscuit only to notice Murielle staring at me as if I had hopped on the table and begun dancing.  It seems she had never seen anyone do something so odd at the dinner table (I guess I missed the memo that jam is only eaten between certain hours here?).  Girl needs to get out more.
-When Patrick nearly impaled Sebastien with the American flag he had brought over from the hotel.  Le pauvre.
-That our coq was not burnt or too terribly tough!
-Getting to share this bon moment ensemble.  I'm thankful for French friends!

Katherine further beautifies our wonderfully decorated dining room.  (Happy thanksgiving sign courtesy of John)

Part of the spread.

Some of the assembled.  L-R: John, moi, the top of Murielle's head, Ivan, Annie-Laure, Patrick, Seb

Lovely.

A Thanksgiving rooster

After several weeks of discussion about what we should make, Katherine, Cathya and I set our Thanksgiving menu on Saturday afternoon.  Unfortunately, the French got the better of us in a few situations: it seems that cranberries don't exist in France, or at least at the HyperU and LeClerc in Touques, and (take a deep breath because the following is Thanksgiving sacrilege) no turkeys will be available until the end of this week.  Since we're celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow (Wednesday) because we get it and not Thursdays off, that doesn't do us much good.  We weren't sure if we were looking in the wrong spot for the turkey at the grocery, or if it was in the back in hiding, so Cathya bravely asked the man at the butcher counter about it only to learn that the turkeys are all currently gobbling and will continue to do so until after their namesake holiday has passed.  

All this is to say that les 3 'ricaines improvised and bought the largest poultry item we could find--a coq (rooster).  He is currently residing in our fridge, awaiting Cathya and her boyfriend John's loving care.  Let's keep our fingers crossed that the rooster cooking experiment (as well as the rest of the preparation) at 28bis goes well tomorrow since we are expecting our bosses Ivan and Sebastien, Annie-Laure (who does garderie with us and takes care of the libraries at Breney and Fracasse), and our neighbors Patrick and Murielle who run the hotel next door.  They actually used to run a restaurant, for which Patrick was the chef, so the pressure's on! 

J'aime...Je n'aime pas

Since I know that you all are fascinated with all the inner workings of my mind here is a list of things that I like (j'aime) and that I don't like (je n'aime pas) about France.  If you've ever seen the movie Amelie, this post is to be read in the same way that narrator introduces each of the main characters with his or her likes and dislikes.

J'aime:  the huge cheese selection at the grocery store (I bought a delicious new Pont-L'Eveque yesterday).
Je n'aime pas: not being able to find peanut butter, or having to take out a loan to buy 300g of it if I can manage to find it on the grocery store shelves.


J'aime: being able to walk nearly everyplace I need to get to in town.
Je n'aime pas: walking to the bakery, or the bank, or the grocery only to discover that it's Wednesday (or Tuesday, or Friday...) and it's closed.


J'aime: teaching a lesson that is both challenging and fun for my students, and seeing how excited they are when they realize they're communicating in English, rather than some strange code I've made up to inconvenience them.
Je n'aime pas: having my lesson, and my concentration, interrupted when other teachers or school officials waltz in and either carry on loud conversations with each other or accuse me of messing up computer equipment that I've never touched.  I know I'm only 22, but can you at least pretend that you respect me?  And no, I'm not bitter about this at all.


J'aime bien: having my students run up to me at recess or in the hallway to give me hugs and bisous.
J'aime pas: seeing them fight among themselves, and seeing my 3 year olds in particularly tell each other that they're not friends anymore and that they're not invited to each other's houses.


J'adore: travelling and being able to practice my French with new and different people.
J'aime pas: realizing I haven't been saving much of my paycheck because of my travels, and because I want to eat something other than a stale crust of bread while I travel.


J'aime: having a kitchen where I can cook and bake whatever I want.
Je n'aime pas: worrying our Thanksgiving feast will be a failure because our oven is probably too small to cook a turkey.


J'aime bien: Getting Wednesdays off and 2 weeks breaks here and there because of the French school calendar.
Je déteste: Having to work on Thanksgiving.

I feel like this list is sufficiently long for now.

Je vous aime bien!

22>26

Lest you think my math skills have degenerated since coming to France, let me qualify the title of this post.  Being 22 is far superior to being 26 if you're in Paris, you can prove you're a permanent resident of the EU, and you're standing at the ticket counter of the Musée d'Orsay.  I went to Paris with my roommate Katherine and my friend Lilly for our long Armistice weekend, and we got in free to the Musée d'Orsay, les Invalides (which houses Napoléon's tomb), and the Musée Rodin when we showed our visas/cartes de séjour and asserted that we were less than 26 years old.  I guess all the hassle for them was worth it, after all!  That's one thing I really appreciate about France--they provide a lot of fee reductions for young people, whether you're a student or not.  I've also saved a lot of money on train tickets because I have the carte 12-25, which is the SNCF's reduction card for young people.  


Anyway, Paris was a lot of fun, even if the weather wasn't ideal.  My pictures aren't outstanding for that reason, but I think you'll still be able to enjoy how much we saw, and the great variety of our destinations.


Thursday:
Katherine and I took the first train from Deauville to Paris and met up with Lilly, who came in from Le Mans, at the hostel.  After putting our things in our room and eating lunch we decided to go to the Musée d'Orsay since it's full of beautiful and interesting paintings and because it was raining.  
 

You can't take photos inside the Musée d'Orsay, but that didn't stop many many people from doing it.  These statues are outside of the museum.

 Our next stop was Notre Dame.  The picture is too small for you to be able to tell, but one of the statues outside of the far left door is of a martyred saint who's holding his detached head in his hands.  It's pretty cool looking.

Lilly and me.

 Next we walked around Ile St. Louis and enjoyed some delicious ice cream from Berthillon (I had myrtille, or blueberry).

Lilly and Katherine as we walked around Ile St Louis

 After Ile St. Louis we crossed the river and wandered a bit. 

Place de la Concorde and the Eiffel Tower.  The tower gets all twinkly and neat on the hour, but sadly it stopped twinkling just as I was pulling out my camera to take a photo.

Friday:
After breakfast at our hostel we took the metro over to the Père Lachaise neighborhood where we enjoyed walking through its incredibly long market, full of vendors hawking their bananas or persimmons or whatever their particular special was that day.  Once we left the cries of "Des belles endives!"  and "Un euro, un euro, un euro" behind we entered the Cimitière Père Lachaise.  We spent several hours wandering through this beautiful cemetery full of mausoleums in search of various friends we had studied in the past or that we just wanted to see to pay our respects to.  

A mausoleum in Père Lachaise that I particularly liked because of its statues

Chopin's grave.  I couldn't get very close to take the picture because he was surrounded by people.  I guess he's still quite popular.

The big puffy cat that we enjoyed sitting by in the cemetery.

Jim Morrison.

Oscar Wilde.  I'm not sure what the significance of the flying statue man is. 

He's quite popular, too.

I think Proust had the most sedate famous grave of any of the famous people we visited.

I really liked Apollinaire's grave, too.  I feel like it fits him.  Below is one of his calligrammes, which was below another of his poems.

 After Père Lachaise, we ate a gaufre au chocolat (waffle with chocolate sauce) and in the Jardin des Tuileries and walked up the Champs Elysées until we reached the Arc de Triomphe.  I had never been underneath the Arc de Triomphe before so it was interesting to see the unknown soldier.

The Arc de Triomphe at sunset.  I thought it was pretty.

I took this when we were walking back down the Champs Elysées

Katherine and I thought we should get dinner for free here.

Isn't Paris pretty?

Next we walked around Montmartre, where we got to see the apartment where Vincent Van Gogh lived for a few years, step into the Cafe 2 Moulins where Amelie works in the movie Amelie, and eat an excellent, if garlicky, Italian dinner.

Saturday:
Saturday we woke up early so that we could make the most of our last day in Paris.  We walked around the 9th Arrondissement in the morning and got to see a lot of interesting stores.

The window display at La mere de la famille, a gourmet food store that we enjoyed looking through

  Then we walked across the Pont Alexandre III, which was given to France by Russia,  to les Invalides, where we got to see Napoleon's tomb.  

That pointy thing behind Katherine's head is the Eiffel Tower.

Napoleon's tomb

"I wish my ashes to rest alongside the Seine amongst the French people that I loved so much."-Napoleon.                           I felt like this was a liiiiiitle much.

I always new that Napoleon had an enormous ego, but I don't think I fully realized how big it was until I visited him.  First, his tomb is situated so that you either have to bow your head down to look at him, or, if you're on the level below, you are gazing up at him.  His tomb is also surrounded by these marble renderings of his all the things he did for the French people--essentially, his resume.  It was an interesting experience.
Next we ate lunch at a tasty Vietnamese restaurant where I had pork dumplings served with bean sprouts in a delicious broth, and then we were off to the Rodin museum.  I'd really like to return there sometime in the spring or summer.  The majority of the sculptures are scattered throughout a rose garden, and they were still pretty even on a drizzly, gray day, but they would be even better on a sunny day when the roses are blooming.

Le penseur.  It was pretty impressive in person.

I took this at the Musee Rodin, but the golden dome is Les Invalides.

After the Rodin museum we got crepes (I had caramel) and walked around a bit until it was time for our train.  All in all, a lovely weekend.