At the mill house

Christmas has been lovely here with Sarah's family. It is so humbling how kind and welcoming they are! Sarah's cousin Hilary and her fiance Peppe (a chef) came from Geneva with their cat and dog in tow, and we've all had a wonderful time. It's hard being away from home, and so this is a blessing.

When we arrived, it was really cold. Frost covered the ground in a thick layer. Since then, it has melted and the grass is green underneath. They live in a mountainous region of France, so next to their house is a river and a steep summit. 15 foot long icicles hang down from where a stream drips in warmer weather. And it's freezing, so much that you can just leave food outside. Not enough room in the refridgerator? No problem, put it on the porch. This is a strange habit to get used to.

I have tried lots of foods since arriving. Oysters. Foie Gras. Caviar. Terrine. Surprisingly, these things are not disgusting. My grandpa was right all along! Dinner at 10 pm makes it impossible to wake up before 10 am and eat breakfast. It's a completely different schedule.

It's been so relaxing. I'm not ready to leave! But tomorrow, Andie (a friend from college) and I will meet in Brussels and travel around a bit. We're going to Berlin, Dublin and London. Then it's back to work on January 8th.

And Happy New Year in case I don't post before then.

The horse knows the way...

We're off to Sarah's aunt and uncle's house tomorrow. They live in an old mill house on a river in Central France. Because they may not have internet, this could be my last post until the 27th.

Last night, Valenciennes had a huge celebration. Apparently for the year 2007, it was the Capitale Regionale de Culture. I didn't realize all that entailed. Last night, they inaugurated a new sculpture and had a massive spectacle. The areas here in the north of France are known for having Geants--giant puppet characters that show up and dance around. Around 15 of them performed last night amid smoke and lights. Fireworks shot off for 30 minutes before the parade. Chefs in white tents passed out soup to the cold spectators. A comedy? troupe entertained people. It was madness, but last night they (literally) passed the cultural torch to Bethane, so I'm hoping this doesn't mean an end to special things in Valenciennes in 2008.

I took a picture with Santa Claus with some friends. Actually, we were taking a picture next to some white Christmas trees (they spray paint live trees white, red, blue, purple or silver here). Santa walked out of the town hall. We yelled "SANTA". This poor man had no idea what we said, but somehow sensing that we yelled at him, he took a picture with us anyway. In French, he is called Pere Noel (Father Christmas), but he is just not the same sort of jolly and joyful as my Uncle Vic.

My students LOVED the letters from the U.S. It was so cute translating them! One little boy had to get a letter from a girl... so of COURSE it was the one signed "Georgina Smith P.S. I love you as a friend." He blushed and blushed and blushed. I tried to explain what it meant, but that isn't really in the culture here. Guys and girls aren't just friends as easily as at home. Also, it was so good the letters talked about the real meaning of Christmas because then I could talk about it with them (without breaking the law). Not all the kids seemed to know it was Jesus' birthday. And that we exchange gifts because of the wise men. It was just so great!

Also, I read them "The Night Before Christmas" and had them learn the first few lines. They put the 'h' sound on the wrong words and leave it off the right ones. "And hall trew da 'ouse" is how it sounds when they repeat. Alvin and the Chipmunks have a funny version of it, by the way. You should have seen the kids eyes when they heard the chipmunk voices!

That's the big news from my end. Miss you all. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

The frost is cruel

Frozen. Frozen. Frozen. It's cold outside. Trees and cars never defrost. I'm finally understanding all those Christmas carols Texans learn can't fully appreciate.

Good King Wenceslas
Baby It's Cold Outside
Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!
It's Beginning to Look a lot like Christmas

Getting ready for the holiday has been fun. I brought Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Candy Cane Hersey's Kisses to the kids... These flavors are completely American. We read The Gingerbread Man, The Night Before Christmas and made Christmas cards.

The word for word translation for snowman from French is "good man of snow." Isn't that great? People tell to soak up the holiday the French way and not worry about being away. But it's difficult. There are so many little things to miss.

Paris in the Sunnyshine

Was wonderful! Cold and sunny. Today I truly enjoyed the city. A few summers ago, everything was hot and crowded. Last time, it was cold, rainy and crowded. People love Paris because of days like this. I'm sure.

Sarah and I strolled around the Latin Quarter in the morning. The Sorbonne, France's oldest university is there, and gave the area its moniker because during the Middle Ages, everyone spoke Latin there. We ate lunch with a professor from A&M who is on sabbatical writing a book and lecturing at the Sorbonne! What fun! They had the fanciest flower-shaped tater tots I have ever seen.

In the afternoon we visited the Marais and saw:
A lock of Marie Antoinette's hair
The left epaulette of General La Fayette
Victor Hugo's bedroom
Street signs in Hebrew
Plates covered in Revolutionary propoganda
And the site of the Bastille (but they tore it down... nothing's there but a giant traffic jam)

This is refreshing. Renaissance art in Italy wore me out! When we went to Nancy last weekend, Sarah and I loved looking at the odd modern art. After a month of classic, you just need to see a flashlight projecting onto a spinning bicycle wheel on the end of a table, and some real make-you-think paintings. We also saw lots of art glass and things from the Ecole de Nancy.

Only two more days of work! A teacher friend from Texas got her class to write Christmas letters to a class of students here, and we're passing the letters out tomorrow. I can't wait! I'm just a little nervous because the kids' letters are precious and all start out with a sentence about how we celebrate Christmas because of Jesus' birth... but there may be a rule against reading that in a French class room? I'm not sure. It is a fact though! Christmas wasn't started to liven up the winter with decorations and cookies.

Pets

One of my favorite sites to see in France (a must-see):
Small animals peeking out from behind a jacket or cardigan. French people zip them right up into their outfits, and you see their heads popping out and wiggly lumps. It was quite disconcerting the first time. To date, my favorite instance of this phenomenon was a on man wearing a coat that fastened with snaps... and it was snapped closed above and below this cat's face.

What an inventive source of transportable heat!

Am I still in France?

So much has happened today! All of a sudden. How could this be a Friday in France? Normally Fridays are just the hors-d'oeuvres of the weekend... my bank doesn't even handle cash on Fridays.

I dropped off reimbursement papers at two different places. Only had minor troubles. At the CAF office (France provides partial reimbursement of rent--everyone here gets it) the woman was looking over my papers. This is the part where they normally nitpick to find something wrong and send you home. All she found was one place where I hadn't written in my roommates' names in a margin where there was no indication that they should be written. With triumph in her eyes, she said, oh, maybe come back another day. I looked at her and said, " I can do right now. No problem. All is okay." She reluctantly gave the stack of papers back to be fixed. And that was that. In 8 months I will probably have some money put directly in to my French account. No telling when or how much.

It's the same case with the papers for a partial reimbursement of work-induced travel costs. They make you fill out a stupid amount of forms, make copies of every paper with both your name and a few stamps on it, and then send these documents through a mysterious chain of hands. But apparently, the money arrives.

Also, a man came and fixed our internet... He had to change our phone jack and rearrange a few things outside. And TA-DA we have a telephone and *gasp* cable television. Now I don't want to leave on the weekend trip Sarah and I had planned to Nancy. It's too good to be true. We haven't had this for a month and a half! Do you think an earthquake will strike?

Tomorrow, one of my schools is having a Christmas show. The kids are going to sing some English carols. Also a song about rabbits and robots. The cafeteria has been morphed into a Christmas village. The windows are covered with holiday pictures, and paper icicles hang from the ceiling. Two very colorful (gaudy?) Christmas trees stand in the corner, and a disco ball dangles from the ceiling.

Brugges Christmas Market

Sunday morning, my roommates and I were up and off on another trip! This time it we took a bus to Brugges, Belgium, that one of the schools had rented. It's funny how close Belgium is on the map, yet it's so difficult to get there without a car. The French and Belgian train lines don't really link up very well.

Anyway, Brugges is really charming. Flemish architecture. Horse-drawn carriages. Chocolate shops everywhere you look. Canals. Some people herald it the Venice of the North. But at least 8 other cities claim this title including Amiens and Valenciennes (what a joke!). There must not be an international copyright on it. They set up an ice skating rink in the town square, but I didn't get to go before the rain started. I'm fascinated with the idea of being able to ice skate outdoors.

We strolled around the city and the Christmas markets. By this time, you must be sensing a trend. Every town has a Marche du Noel. And they all want people to think theirs is the best. But really each one is almost identical and not spectacular thus far. Germany is supposed to be King of the Christmas Market, not France. So each market will have two parts, a food part and a gift part. The food stalls sell waffles, hot chocolate, Irish coffee, mulled wine, sausages, and street food. I sort of got burned at this point--figuring Belgium was famous for chocolate and waffles so they would be spectacular, I ordered them... and the results were disappointing. Should have stuck with a restaurant. The rest of the little houses sell ornaments, scarves, gloves, socks, soccer jerseys, cheese, African arts and crafts. You know, all the things that make a person think of Christmas in France.

It's been frustrating trying to find French Christmas artifacts to bring home. For some reason, everything says "Merry Christmas" on it. And all the Christmas carols are in English, too. Although some have been translated, including Jingle Bells and White Christmas.

I spent most of the day with Egle, the assistant from Italy, and she is teaching me Italian. She misses it a lot... we're lucky to have so many English speakers around, but no one else can speak Italian. Actually, in Northern Belgium near the Netherlands, it's more polite to speak English than French to the Dutch. And because it's so close to Germany, most things are in four languages. Also, I just learned that Holland and the Netherlands aren't synonymous. Holland was a historical part of the Netherlands, and now it's rude to refer to country as Holland.

We went in one chocolate shop called The Chocolate Line. They had a revolving nativity made out of chocolate. Also, the best chocolate I've ever eaten. Why didn't I buy more? The shop had a glass wall so you could watch the Meester Chocolatier concocting them in the back. That doesn't seem like a bad career path at all.

Paris

Paris at Christmastime. On a Saturday. What a day! Somehow between 7:33 and 19:52 we covered several corners of the city. My favorite thing was visiting the Rodin Museum. They have an sculpture garden outside with immense bronze sculptures. He captured gestures so well, they convey movement. So you walk around them, and look at their faces, and their faces seem to look back at you. Inside, we saw a blind tour group, and they were feeling the sculptures! I wonder what that would be like. You can't touch the planes of paintings or photographs, but how wonderful to have sculpture. By the way, teachers have free admission to this museum. So do people under 18 and the unemployed.

Shortly after the Rodin, the rain commenced and didn't stop. It's disappointing seeing such a beautiful city from under an umbrella. It's also dangerous because the sidewalks are packed full of umbrellas (actually enough that people without one didn't get too damp). Everywhere was really crowded in the afternoon. We went to the Galleries Lafayette, one of the oldest shopping malls in the world, to see the enormous Christmas tree. The French started the shopping mall, and this one has an enormous Art Nouveau glass dome that rests 8 stories above the floor. The Christmas tree went almost all the way to the top! Also, there were hoards of people packed in the store like I've never seen before. Getting off the escalator was rough because people were literally stopped... so you'd bump into the people in front of you, then people behind you would bump into you etc. It would have been like human dominoes if there'd been space to fall.

To recover from this, we stopped in Starbucks. The French attitude is generally against Starbucks, but the populous didn't get that memo because it was packed. Two and a half months without Starbucks... can you imagine the happiness? Unfortunately, they do not sell peppermint mochas (one thing I crave this time of year). But it's just lovely being in a familiar, dependable, comfortable place. That's why Starbucks do so well in the first place! The German girls, Sybille and Lena teased me about this, but then they understood. Last, we ran, yes, ran, to see the Eiffel Tower twinkle (on the hour for 5 minutes after dusk) and get our train back to Valenciennes.

Smores

Uniquely American. Megan says the only thing she'd ever seen about them before last night was in "The Sandlot".

So, we started a fire in our fireplace last night! It was quite exciting. And to inaugurate our new heat source, we decided to play scrabble and make smores with the graham crackers my mom sent. Caroline thought they sounded disgusting. Megan dove right in. It was classic! Marshmallows melting and burning and oozing. Graham crackers crunching. Delicious. Once Caroline saw how much Megan loved the smore, she gave them a go (originally, she'd thought the graham crackers were savory like normal crackers--which do sound disgusting with marshmallows) and loved them, too.

And I won at Scrabble. Actually, JARS won it because of the J on a triple letter and R on a double word.

Road Trip in France

Driving in France. Completely different than driving in America. Like apples versus grapes.

Tuesday Nina, Drew, Jen and I set off for Bayeux (of Tapestry fame) equipped with PB&J's, cookies, and bananas. Getting there wasn't really a problem because we'd planned to take the toll roads. There are lots of toll roads in France. The map shows there are other roads that aren't toll roads, but there are no street signs on where those roads are. It's a conspiracy. Also, some direction signs had black paint over them (are they expecting an invasion?) It cost us around 26 euros to drive 3.5 hours. That's pretty steep. Steeper than the fancy Ponte de Normandie over the Seine we payed to traverse (you have to pay a Billy Goats Gruff toll to go over bridges). So anyway, we got there. Jen was our fearless driver. She brought her car over from England, and it's really exciting riding in a car built to drive on the left. Sitting in the front passenger seat, you just get the feeling that quite a bit is missing.

Anyway, so we bummed around in Bayeux that evening. This included attempting to put together a 1000-piece puzzle of a collie dog (not much else to do). We decided to wake up early and see the town, forgetting that the sun doesn't rise until 8:30, so our trek beginning at 7 am wasn't very eventful. The only people we saw were butchers and bakers (no candlestick makers). After breakfast, we went to see the ancient tapestry. It's from 1066 and is the length of a football field. It's displayed in a U shape, so you curve around it listening to a posh British narrator recount the Battle for the English throne between Harold and William the Conqueror. Because it wasn't crowded, the man let us go around it twice so we could hear it in both English and French.

After seeing the tapestry, we decided to go see the next battle scene northern France is known for--the D Day beaches. It was amazing to see them. They stretch on forever and are just bleak. It's hard to imagine the largest land invasion in history, but being there makes it easier. We went to the American Cemetery and Memorial, and the museum told stories of the soldiers. You can hear their letters, see their rations and look at maps of what happened. Finally, we went to Juno beach so Nina could see the Canadian site.

The way home was ridiculous. We planned to take non-toll roads. But couldn't find them anywhere. So a 3.5 hour trip ended up taking almost 7. Who knows what that was all about. French roads are nutty. I think it's just like everything else here--you have to know things that aren't published anywhere. If not, tant pis (too bad). But we sure did get a good laugh in the car from all the barney rubble (trouble) and finally made it home around 1am.

I broke the sink faucet.

Things had calmed down around here... actually that's not true. Our internet's still broken. Christmas is coming. My roommates returned from their weekend trips. Chili was bubbling on the stove. Lesson plans were on the table. And I'm going on a mid-week trip to Normandy tomorrow. But then, I turned the faucet of our kitchen sink, and it came off in my hand.

Only a bit of water sprayed uncontrollably. I stupidly tried to reattach it with the force of gravity plus my arm. But no. The copperish metal spout will not heal itself. For the record, brute American strength did not snap the French faucet. It was already decaying from calcaire and rust. Water here is so hard, everything gets covered in white bits and you have to clean it off with special products (they just call it calcaire). Should have just let the dishes lie in the sink dirty. Kids, let this be a lesson, never wash dishes in France. It's risky.

This week there will be lots of traveling to make up for not going anywhere this weekend (plans for Paris were called on account of rain and high winds). It's hard staying here with nothing to do for more than one day at a time. Europe beckons. It's so easy to leave. So tomorrow (don't have to work because my teacher has a meeting) and Wednesday, we'll be in Bayeux (of tapestry fame). Saturday, Paris. Sunday, Brugges.

It's just bad because sometimes school seems like an inconvenience. Rather than a necessity of being here. The problem lies in working just enough hours to keep us around, but not enough to keep us busy. But who am I to complain?

Four hour work week?

Somehow this week, I have only served four hours at the grindstone. Not for lack of trying. Interestingly, I have spent almost that long on trains. Wednesday, I went to Boulolgne-sur-Mer with Drew (my favorite Californian) and Nina (my favorite Indo-Canadian). We had a ball looking around the 13th century village perched high on a hill. We saw the sea. We saw a castle. We saw lots of mussels and french fries (and tasted them, too).

Then yesterday, I had an appointment in Lille at the Prefecture to pick up a recepisse of my carte de sejour. Thinking this would take all day (because this is France), I told my schools I wouldn't be there. About five of us had appointments. Imagine our surprise when we walked in and picked them up from the information desk on the first floor. No climbing stairs, winding corridors and confusion. No lines. No hassle. No frustrating lack of papers we didn't think we'd need to bring. This is by far the easiest thing that I've done in France. So we celebrated with a hot chocolate from Paul. This is by far the deliciousest thing that I've tasted in France. Very thick melted chocolate in a glass mug. 90% of English Assistants think that Paul is the best restaurant/bakery in France, and even one of the best things about France.

So we passed a lovely afternoon strolling and browsing through Lille. Then I tried to go to work this morning, but the class was gone. A teacher said they were running a race? Either that or shopping or taking a class. It's one of those words in French that can mean lots of things. But honestly, I would have liked to work today. Teaching the kids is great fun. And I sort of miss it now.

Tuesday, I played Twister with two classes. We practiced colors, left/right and dexterity. Some of them got it. Others didn't. But the room was filled with enthusiasm. Also, it was one girl's birthday. And when you have a birthday in France, you bring cake to your teachers!

Heat...

They say it's getting cold in Texas! Wonderful. Welcome, Christmas.

I've been listening to the "London Homesick Blues" by Jerry Jeff Walker. He sings "Well, it's cold here... and I wish they'd turn the heat on" at one point. And I feel sorta like that, too. Lately two things have happened to make me think about heat.

(1) Sunday night, I leaned over a candle (old-fashioned heat) and set my hair on fire. Only a few inches burned off the left side. This is one way to avoid getting a haircut in France, but it smelled awful.

(2) There is a portable electric fan heater positioned strategically over my bed. This was great for a few weeks until I remembered the episode of Good Eats where he dried fruit and made beef jerky with just such a fan. Fearing a similar process with my skin, I now only turn it on in the morning after my alarm goes off and it's too cold to contemplate getting out of bed.

Won't the ultimate irony be getting used to the cold and being rendered unable to deal with Texas in July. This is a year of extremes!

The Cry of the Seagulls

Woke me up yesterday morning. For a moment I thought Galveston awaited outside the window. Then I remembered. Dunkerque. It was high time to visit Sarah and get out of town. So here we are at the beach where the Frogs and the Roast Beefs have battled for ages. That's what they call each other. There are still some battlements and memorials.

We bought pain au mais at the market yesterday. Cornbread? No. Yeast bread with a gentle smattering of corn kernels. Not what we wanted. (By the way, mais is one word that French people never understand me saying. Very vexing.) On the up side, our favorite bakery Paul has started selling Christmas confections, and we ate some St. Nicolaus men on Friday.

It's Christmas everywhere. The Marche de Noel began two days ago in Lille. They have a number of showy snowy house facades, a huge ferris wheel and all the Christmas trinkets you can imagine. But streets have already been decorated for Christmas since before Halloween. I had to explain to the students that in America, we don't deck the halls until after Thanksgiving.

By the way, Thursday all the teachers (save two) loved the pumpkin pie. An easy way to make friends in France is to walk down the rue carrying a round pan. The kids also enjoyed Pin the Hat on the Turkey and learning that we do not eat peanut butter on Thanksgiving.

Food habits that Europeans find strange:
Marshmallows in hot chocolate
Eating Dressing for dinner
Peanut butter and chocolate, together
Peanut butter and jelly, together
Cereal for dinner
Any meal that does not include some form of a potato

Happy Thanksgiving

"Oh really, do you say that?" Megan responded after I told her that this morning.

It's been Thanksgiving in France for 9 1/2 hours now. But the Assistants have been celebrating it for a day because we tend to have Wednesdays off work. It was great! There was 6 kilo roasted turkey (the butcher had to order it special), dressing and a zillion side dishes (except cranberry sauce). The ratio was about 1 American : 1 AngloCanadian : .5 German. The food was very mysterious to those new to Thanksgiving. Sweet potatoes? With MARSHMALLOWS? Biscuits that aren't sweet cookies? What's dressing? Explaining dressing presents a challenge because it could have almost anything in it. And one of my sweet English friends ate her biscuit with a knife and fork.

We had fun preparing all of this. Caroline and I made pie crust and sweet potatoes. Then Sarah got here, and we made the biscuits and pecan pie filling. It was a crunch because we only had a small toaster oven. Food Network should make this a televised challenge. We washed the pecans (they were salted), defrosted the pumpkin and shelled lots of walnuts. Also, flour flew everywhere.

So, through all this, my homesickness decreased. It's true I'd like to be home for Thanksgiving, but it was also special to get to share this part of our culture abroad. So many want to celebrate Thanksgiving every year now. A German girl is in love with my grandmother's pecan pie. Today I'm bringing a pumpkin pie around to share with the teachers at school. We'll see how they like it. I guess this sharing between cultures is what Thanksgiving was originally about anyway. So, it's special to get to experience it in this way.

But Happy Thanksgiving to all of you who have the day off work and school.

Inspired

I just finished reading this article by Art Buchwald. Then a little bit about his life, and it really inspired me. Hope you like it.

Things here have been sort of slow. Imagine maple syrup dripping slowly out of a tree tap that is moving and freezing at the same time. The transit workers are still on strike. Today I got stranded after work in a neighboring town because the tramway stopped... and then walked 45 minutes in the wintery wind blasts over the river and through the woods back home. My roommate Megan is actually stranded in London because of the strikes, so I shouldn't complain. That's much further.

To combat this, I made Oatmeal Pancakes and pretended like I was at home. It works if I close my eyes and smell peanut butter.

But there are lots of things to be thankful for:
-Getting a Happy Thanksgiving card in the mail
-Encouraging emails
-Skype conversations
-Finding Quaker Oats at the store today (in a box!)
-Electric fan heaters
-Chinese websites that allow me to keep up with American television while learning Chinese via the subtitles... I now recognize the characters for "No" "I" and "Well".

France's other holidays

A hearty thanks for all the help and suggestions! It's great having transferable recipes for Thanksgiving food, even if one does have to pay cher for a piddly number of pecans. Through this process, I've been wondering why Thanksgiving never caught on in France (so what if they never had pilgrims or Indians). You'd think the French would be all about having another holiday that revolves around food, sports and family time. Those are, after all, their obsessions.

Last week while I was explaining Thanksgiving to her class, little Marie raised her hand and asked if we ate chips (french fries) for the meal. I said no and tried to convey the vastness and importance of the Thanksgiving dinner using tone, arm gestures and broken french. She seemed perplexed. Five minutes later, not willing to let this go, she raised her hand and asked "But why don't you eat chips for Thanksgiving?" "Because it's a formal meal. Formel. Chips are informel." She just looked at me like I'd either (1) grown a Native American headdress or (2) discounted her entire logic system. French fries are very popular here. They even serve them on bread...a french fry sandwich. It's apparently outside the 9-year-old range of thought that one can have a nice meal without them.

Maybe Thanksgiving never caught on because two holidays already exist this week. Sunday was Armistice Day. It was really sobering thinking about how much violence struck Valenciennes. I believe the British liberated them because there were lots of Union Jack's flying in the city center. They had a ceremony at 11am that lasted about an hour (a very COLD hour). All the branches of the military were represented, and there were small troops from England and Scotland (sporting bagpipes and kilts!). The most notable part of this was the parade. I'm not sure how this fits in beyond being a demonstration of civic pride and participation, but almost every sports club marched in it behind the military band and the boy scouts. My favorites were the martial arts club, the SCUBA club (in wetsuits and flippers), the baseball club (it does exist!), the umbrella club, and the hot air balloon club (who had the bottom parts of their balloons on trailers and drove around shooting fire in the air... that warmed things up a bit.)

Then yesterday was another day dear to France... and any oenophile. The first day of Beaujolais Nouveau. It's a type of red wine that is harvested later in the year (now). I don't know why it's always this day, but it is. People have beaujolais parties, and bars have free buffets. And if bars have free buffets, hungry English assistants will flock there in droves. (Who knew France had buffets?) So we went to try this new wine. It was nice, but I'm still not sure what the fuss is. We also ought to have checked to see what the buffet consisted of before sitting down and ordering a bottle. This was not the gourmet buffet of wishes and dreams. It was stinky, drippy cheese on a wheel, couscous and canned vegetables. I felt insulted. Wronged. Still do. Shame on you, France. Shame on you. That should be illegal or persecuted.

Also disappointing: the transportation workers are on stike again. So our trip to Paris this weekend has been jeopardized and postponed. On a brighter note, it has been sunny the last three days (even though the temperatures hover around freezing). The Alps opened up for skiing today. These are the things one knows when one lives in France. It's weird.

England may save Thanksgiving! You can help, too!

Okay dear readers,

This is a call for help!

The American Assistants have planned a Thanksgiving feast for next Wednesday (most of us have to work Thursday, how lame). The British are excited about it. The Canadians are even more excited about it (they have a form of Thanksgiving).

So last night, I was reading recipes for pie, buttermilk biscuits and dressing online. I could actually taste the pecan pie crunching in my mouth. The problem is, a lot of the traditional ingredients can't be found here (unless Megan finds them in England this weekend).

So could you help me? If you know of a recipe for pecan pie that has no corn syrup, can you send it to me? Also a biscuits recipe with no baking powder or shortening. We have baking soda. Also there is no canned pumpkin here. But we have lots of walnuts! Please send any ideas to laurajoost@gmail.com!

Italy Part 4: Cultural Notes

The first evening we arrived in Rome, Sarah and I set out to find a grocery store our hotel had recommended. "Togoli" is the name she wrote down. (By the way, when checking in, she exclaimed at length about how Laura is an Italian name... then she told Sarah the same thing. She reminded me of the dad on My Big Fat Greek Wedding.) Anyway, the following anecdote basically sums up our intercultural communications with Italians. We searched for the grocery store all over the train station and couldn't find it.

So, we asked 3 police officers.
"Buonasera" "Buonasera" "Buonasera" "Buonasera" (you have to greet everyone)
"Togoli?"
Blank stares. "Engl-ay-see?" they asked us. "Si si."
"What you look for?" "Togoli" More blank stares. We hadn't anticipated this to be a problem.
"A grocery store. We're looking for a grocery store. En francais?"
"The food. We want some of the food for to eat."
"Ahhhhh mangeria! Pizzeria!" "Non non non" we waved our hands back and forth.
"Mac-dough-nal-dos?" "Non non non. For the breakfast tomorrow."
"Ahhh tomorrow. Biglietteria (ticket office)" "Non non non."
"Horaries (time table)?" "Non non non."
After this, we basically said every word for food, grocery store that we knew in every language. Then we just changed the pronunciation to sound more Italian after they failed the first time. We would have given up, but they were so intent on helping us. Finally, the oldest one (who had said he knew no English) had a blessed moment of comprehension and said "Ahhh, Supermarket!" Ding ding ding ding! After that, Sarah and I were escorted down the escalator, through the train station by three proud police officers. If we hadn't been smiling, it would have looked like we were in heaps of trouble. They deposited us outside of Conad's Drug Store. "Drug Store? Non. Supermarket" we said. "Non supermarket" they said. And they were right.

To go to a supermarket, one goes to a drug store.
To purchase a bus ticket, one goes to a newspaper stand.
To purchase stamps, one goes to a tobacco shop. (NOT a store called La Stampa.)
I hear the bank sells great seafood.

They drink orzo in their coffee, eat puffed rice in their chocolate cookies and put tubers and gourds on their pizzas.

Ciao means hello, goodbye, and hey. Usually it's necessary to say it 3-4 times in rapid succession, most of all when trying to get off of the phone with your mama. Prego is the same way. It means please, you're welcome, go ahead, and you're next.

So once a visitor gets used to all this, whenever sometimes new surprises you, you just think "Of course," shake your head and ponder anew the logic of the Italians. Because somehow these crazy things make sense here.

One other stunner-- the country that brings Armani, Prada and Gucci to the international design closet has a surprising love of kitsch. There is tackiness hidden in corners. It's all over the market! Restaurants have large flying dolphin ceramics. Bathrooms have chromatic waterfall posters. Boys wear Dora the Explorer backpacks. I saw an impeccably dressed girl (to an Italian--black and brown only, please wear leather boots) with a Betty Boop Road Sign sticking out of a shopping bag.

This is paradoxical. But I finally started understanding their relaxed sense of time. It probably has to do with being surrounded by 2000 year old buildings. What's another 15 minutes matter compared to that? Also, it's difficult to walk quickly down cobblestone streets.

Italy Part 3: Roma Spelled backwards is Amor

That's the title of a book I once read for a class on the Art and Architectural History of Rome. We read lots of books that semester, but that one was my favorite. It described the monuments and the stories behind them (rather than structural technicalities), and so actually getting to be in Rome for 4 days was incredible! All the names were so familiar. The history's really true. The proof is in the ruins. The dead/living city was as vibrant as I'd imagined and hoped.

Mercifully, I will only post about my absolute favorites. Otherwise this could turn into a book.

The first morning, Sarah and I visited the Villa Borghese. The Borghese family was one of the most prominent in Italy, and they had this house built specifically to show off their art collection. It was fantastic! One of the signs mentioned a sculpture that had "emigrated to the Louvre." That doesn't sound too bad, does it?

That evening, we went into Santa Maria Maggiore. The floor was covered in colorful marble tiles and you could feel the different levels beneath your feet. The confession booths were labled Espagnol, Deutsch, Italiano, English, Francais and Polski. The ceiling seemed very flat after being in the Pantheon. A nun walked by carrying an IKEA shopping bag. We decided to go to the evening vespers. It was amazing listening to the Italian and understanding what they were saying.

The next day we went to Vatican City to visit St. Peter's Basilica.
Numbers:
1- statue by Michelangelo
2- times Sarah and I walked through the Sistine Chapel
3- hours waiting in line to enter the Vatican Museum
4- hurting feet
5- euros for cheese and bread in the cafeteria
6- hours there
550- steps climbed to the top of the dome (whew!)

The massiveness of the Basilica sinks in slowly. They have marked off on the floor the boundaries of other cathedrals (demonstrating how much larger it is!). It looks like all heaven broke loose inside. Everything is covered in gold or colors or sculpture or puti (those naked babies who fly everywhere). It's stunning.

That night we got gelati at one of the most famous gelaterias called San Crispiano. It was nearly life-changing in that I almost changed my life's goal into being someone who makes gelato. We tried gelato with meringue pieces, zabaglione, honey, and travorso chocolate. Then we went to the Trevi fountain (with the rest of the hoard) to see it the lights.

Our last day in Rome, we went to a street market (where I got a nutcracker, 3 antique postcards and achy feet) and wandered around the ancient Forums. We had the most wonderful pizza-- a chewy, yummy crust covered in bufalo mozzarella, peppers, artichokes, eggplant, and tomatoes. This restaurant must have been truly Italian because we ate at a table between a nun and a fashion designer. And saw paper towels in a bathroom for the first tiome since arriving in Europe.

Italy Part 2: The Beach and the Renaissance

Riomaggiore (in the Cinque Terre) was mentioned in a previous post. Basically, it's one of 5 hillside villages on the western coast of Italy that have been declared a national park. Yes, it's gorgeous. They are famous for pesto and gnocci. Unfortunately we heard more people speaking English than Italian. So, apparently the secret's out. Sarah and I had a pesto picnic in our hotel room. One of the great things about Europe is buying produce with stems and leaves still attached. I'm fascinated by this. One of the not-great things about Italy is being charged to sit down in a restaurant. This happened at lunch, and then the waitress was cheeky enough to shoo us out right after our meal.

Italy is very different from France. The trains are late. Ticket checkers would rather talk on their cells with signoras than punch your ticket. It's sunny. The rooftops are made with orangey-red tiles. Coffee with foamed milk is superbe. Shops are closed between 12 -3 and then stay open until 8:30. People are more smiley (even though they only wear black and brown).

Florence was great. The Renaissance is everywhere. Our hotel was right next to Dante's house. Brunelleschi's dome was a block away. Art galleries galore. It inspires one's finer side. We feasted chocolate muselix, calzones with the most perfect bread, and tiramisu gelato. We saw David, The Birth of Venus, children trick-or-treating, and two more mullets (tourists).
David is monumental. Chilling. Immediate goosebumps. Michelangelo, thank you.

On the train to Rome, we accidentally rode 1st class. The ticket guy didn't say a word! Benvenuto in Italy.

Italy Part 1: Making it out of France

"We would like to reserve two tickets to Torino leaving today at 12:15 from Paris."

The lady at the train station ticket window stared at me with the you-complete-idiot look and said "This is the vacations. All the trains to Italy are full. You should have reserved weeks ago. Today is impossible." "And tomorrow?" "Complete" "Monday?" "Okay there's a train Monday but it leaves at 6 am and you have to wait in Chambery for 5 hours."

And it was even more trouble getting a train back from Italy. (Should have just stayed there)

Anyway, that was the start of my vacation with Sarah. We sheepishly went back to Valenciennes, surprised my roommates, and rearranged our hotel situation.

Monday morning, we had to catch the train leaving at 4:39 am to catch our next one at 6 am in Lille. As if waking up at 3:30 am isn't difficult enough, daylight savings time didn't reset on my phone, and I woke us up at 2:30 am. Whoops.

Four Dutch people rode on the train to Lyon next to us. They were way too chatty for the morning. In fact, the one with a stammer never stopped talking. This was rough because (1) we couldn't sleep and (2) we couldn't eavesdrop. It's funny arriving somewhere far away at 9 am. We got the bus to sunny Chambery (an French Alpine town) and sat in the park for 5 hours. What is there to do in a park for such a long time?

Journal. Sketch. People watch. Most looked like they'd rather be skiing. Others included
-a man sleeping on his shoes on a bench
-a passerbyer with a mullet, red shirt and white sneakers
-two people practicing karate, one Asian, one uncoordinated.

Fortunately we got a lot of this on video.

We made it to Torino and our hotel around 9 pm. This was officially a long day.

Back!

Italy was fantastic!

I am ready to learn Italian and move to Italy. Maybe in that order, maybe not.

Tomorrow you can expect a proper update. This is just to let everyone know I'm safely back in France. But it's not sunny here. Work starts tomorrow. I got used to going barefoot indoors and not dragging an overcoat around everywhere.

Buongiorno from Firenze

That means Good day from Florence in case you have never heard it before. Things here are spectacular. It is sunny. Buildings are lovely. Gelato is plentiful. Street food is better than french restaurant fare.

We started out in Torino, oogled chocolate and paintings. Then went to the Cinque Terre- a beach town- but it was raining and windy. Left there the next morning while the sun was shining (wanting to cry from disappointment) and made it to Florence. Now we are off to Roma for four days. More later.
I love Europes outrageous eye and footwear.
Yesterday I wanted to be a pigeon so I could fly into the Uffizzi instead of waiting in line.
The coffee here is great.

Happy Halloween

We celebrated at school today. The kids made pumpkin soup and witches. They have a difficult time saying "Trick or Treat." I read a book called "Winnie the Witch" outloud around 10 times.

But now it's time to pack. Somehow Sarah and I are leaving for Italy tomorrow? This is shocking. It's snuck up on us. We just got all the hotels and trains sorted out yesterday. So look for posts from sunny Italy to be arriving soon.

We're going to Torino first, then Riomaggiore (on the sea), Florence and Rome. Whew!

Autumn in France

The leaves here are beautiful and sometimes bigger than both of your feet put together. (I know because this was the standing case yesterday.)

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one autumnal face.
(John Donne, Elegy IX: The Autumnal)

Happy Birthday Dad!

This is just to wish my Dad the bestest birthday.
Wish I could be there.

I love you!

Hugs not Drugs

People here don't really hug.
Not that I've ever seen.

Instead, they faire la bise-- they do cheek kisses when meeting, greeting and leaving. This is all well and good, and I am finally starting to get used to it.

There are lots of tacit yet observable rules of etiquette that go along with this process.
1. If the person is 'superior' to you, wait for them to initiate the bisou.
2. If the other person doesn't do anything, it may be up to you or it may not be appropriate. Then you have to decide if it's worth seeming rude to avoid being more rude.
3. Always go to the left first.
4. If you know someone well, watch out because you might get two on each side.
5. Guys shake hands sometimes but not always. (Girls don't shake hands here.)
6. If both people are wearing glasses, carefully calculate the trajectory so that the frames do not clink together.

Regardless, I miss good old-fashioned hugs.

Parlez-vous Franglais?

The French call them faux amis, we say "false friends."

They are words that are similar, but not the same in French and English. But they are so funny to integrate in to conversations with friends who speak both languages (franglais).

My personal favorites:
1. Derange
In French, this phrase Desolee de vous derangez translates into a mild "Sorry to bother you." But the word is ever so much more entertaining in English when used in sentences such as "If it doesn't derange you, could you bring me some bread from town?" or even just "Sorry to derange you, please text me later."

2. Perturbations
Sure in English, we can be perturbed with someone or something. But in French, these objects of annoyance are called perturbations, and that word amuses me to no end.

There are more, but I need to occupy myself (another typical french expression) with getting ready for school now. A toute a l'heure!

A cobbler

I've decide to forgive France for ripping up the streets. They do seem to be recobbling quickly. Yesterday, two Brits, an Australian and I had a discussion about what exactly a 'cobbler' is.

Is it:
(a) A person who works on shoes
(b) A person who works on streets
(c) A delicious Southern dessert best served warm with ice cream
(d) The act of clobbering someone with a corn cob

The answer:
(a) and (b) if you can name the last 10 monarchs of Britain
(a), (b), and (c) if you can whistle Dixie

So yesterday, I decided to make answer choice (c) to demonstrate its greatness. We had lots of fresh apples from the doctor's farm, so what could be better right? (By the way, it amuses me that despite the adage about an apple a day, these apples make the doctor come by more often.) American recipes in France pose several challenges. Measurements and temperatures must be converted. Ingredients must be translated and found. This isn't enough. There's something mysterious about cooking in France. I'm scared to disturb the delicious air of haut cuisine. It's just a big deal here. Menus are planned and executed properly. So to ensure good fortune in the kitchen, it's often necessary to throw salt over your right shoulder, and jump backwards three times towards the culinary districts of southern France.

Anyway, I couldn't find baking soda or powder at the store. So rather than use the yeast I accidentally purchased, I just left it out all together. This made more of a toffee-like cobbler than a cake-like cobbler, but it wasn't bad. Hopefully a bigger grocery store will sell them, and I cobble again later this week. Nobody minded though, they thought it was scrumptious.

Just a note

Dear France,

Was it really 100% necessary that you tear up all 8 streets around my house at the same time? And start every morning right at 8 am? You'd think there'd be a grace period of 15 min. at the beginning, but these guys have hats and vests strapped on and are ready to deconstruct roads promptly at 8. It'd be great if you could hurry up and recobble the streets. Thanks.

Sleepily,
Laura Joost

The REAL national sport of France

Today all the French transportation employees are on strike for more benefits.

Because I live next to the Prefecture--a governmental office building--I walked to my tramway stop this morning and saw something rather unusual. The vision of blue-collar workers wearing vests, waving flags and chanting will be forever burned in my memory. Policemen stood about watching them and didn't seem too concerned about anything. I actually can't get to one of my schools (no buses or trams), so they said not to worry about coming into work today. The other two thought about making me walk there, and then let me off the hook.

When will I actually work? We have a 1.5 week vacation beginning October 26th.

Later, I walked down the street and saw the crowd of multi-colored protesters earnestly marching towards me! I videoed part of it. Honestly, I couldn't stop smiling because of wanting to laugh so hard. They really do love a good strike. Apparently whenever one sector strikes, others do, too, just for "solidarity"! This would neeeeeever happen in Texas.

By the way, Sarah and I met up in Lille yesterday! It was fantastic! We ate lunch with a bunch of other assistants in a restaurant/bakery that had wall painted like an Italian villa. Our trip to Italy is approaching, how appropriate! Then we strolled around the old city center looking in bookshops, taking photos and laughing.

Sounds

Things you hear in France (notably at our apartment):

- Smiling kids saying 'el-low!
- Disproportionately loud motorbikes/scooters
- Creaky floorboards (everywhere)
- Cathedral bells ringing
- Trains and trams whooshing on tracks.
- Water boiling in a tea kettle (impossible to have too many hot beverages!)
- Funny European ring tunes.
- Heels walking on cobble stone.
- Music that sounds like it's been bounced around in a tin can.
- Road construction literally right outside the door. This morning, it seemed like someone was banging on the door with a jackhammer (in reality, they were just drilling holes in concrete).
- Lots of speaker messages from riding on trains and trams. The trains have this really urgent sounding alert they play right be for departure. It sounds like a game show tension noise.
- Mosquitoes buzzing near your ears (wouldn't have guessed that, would ya?)
- Loud cheering and booing if you are watching anything to do with sports.
- "C'est pas grave" One of the most common french expressions. Means "Oh, no big deal.. it's not serious." Walking down the street you can actually pick this phrase out of conversations.
There are more like this, but I should save them for a post about things french people say.


Things you don't hear in France (that I miss):

-My cell phone ringing (my heart breaks)
-"AAAAAAAA Gig'em Aggies, Whooop"
-American radio stations

In case anyone was wondering, the soccer game was great!

Geography Lessons or How much do YOU really know?

Who knows the other countries in the world where people speak French? You don't have to raise your hands. Leave a comment if you know!

The kids in class are funny because they aren't sure where people speak English (besides England). "Okay, what language do people speak in Australia?" "Australian!" They also can't quite pin point the United States on a map... some point to England, others study Russia. "Well, how do you think she got here?" "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure she arrived by train."

But how many people from the US could answer such questions fully and completely about the Francophone countries?

Yesterday I did a lesson with the kids about Great Britain, the countries in the British Isles, and all their flags. Of course, I didn't know much of that stuff before the lesson either. As embarrassing as it is to admit, (despite being an international studies major!) I had no remembrance that Wales was its own country until Megan told me last week. Or that the name of the English flag was "St. George's Cross" and that the Scottish, English and North Irish flags combine together to make the Union Jack. So there's that news for anyone who didn't know.

There's a lot to learn. It's really funny sitting in class and learning grammar or something along with the students. In a math class I observed the other day, they were taught to add and subtract by 9 by using 10 and then adding or subtracting 1. Well that is useful, why did it take 23 years for me to learn that?

Also, French game shows impart cultural tidbits. They have "Are you Smarter than a 6th Grader?" and several others that are similar to US shows, too. It's fun trying to understand the host's jokes and the crowd's remarks. The French are like Aggies in that they heckle mercilessly.

We'll see if they heckle in real life, too. This evening, I'm going to a charity soccer match in Valenciennes. Famous old french players are going to play the city's current team. Bernadette Chirac (the former president's wife) is going to open the game, so it will be interesting.

Internet Woes

Faithful Readers,

Sorry for the delay! Can you believe the internet was out in the entire city of Valenciennes starting Saturday morning? A cow must have chewed though a main wire and the chances of getting something like that fixed over the weekend in France are zippo.

It was especially annoying because so many great things happened this weekend.

Like AMANDA and ANDREW getting engaged!! Congrats you two :)

Other good things:
- Observation finished up fantastically. A girl named Sophie made me a lanyard key chain. The little boy who had been acting up in class was captivated by photos of American football and alligators in the Texas Monthly magazine and started behaving. All the teachers are really nice and two are around my age. I keep hoping we can be friends.

- Went to an outdoor market Saturday morning. You can buy the most ridiculous things at them. 1950s-style aprons. Sushi. Mattresses. 80 different kinds of cheese. Oriental rugs. Animals (cooked, raw, or alive). Shoes (really strange ones). Makeup.

-The refrigerator got plugged in at 5pm on Saturday. I got to have milk in my coffee yesterday. It was fantastic.

-We watched the France vs. England Rugby World Cup Match at a cafe Saturday night. Rugby's great to watch because they don't stop the clock for any reason. Goes by fast. The players are just massive, too. I would like to poke one in the neck. Anyway, half of the assistants are British, so they were cheering against the rest of the French people. So noisy. So great. Everyone was standing because there wasn't much room to sit... And England dramatically won in the last few minutes of the game. The French were good sports (surprisingly) and even played "Another One Bites the Dust" over the cafe speakers when the game was over (although it's possible they don't understand the words).

-Anyway then we talked until wee hours of the morning. It's so interesting talking about culture and politics and life with everyone. The group of assistants here is just great! There must be around 15-20 of us. But not everyone shows up for stuff, so there are normally fewer. It's funny how much English-English translation happens.

-The weather was sunshine again! I love it!

-In French class, we always learned about how much the French love to have "manifestations" or "greves" (strikes). Well, last Friday, the teachers were sent a letter about a strike they're going to have this Wednesday... It was the best thing to see how excited this one teacher got! The textbook was actually right in this case! Apparently transportation workers will strike, too. Good thing I don't need to go anywhere.

Eating Vegetables from a Ziploc

Apparently I am the sort of girl who eats lentils and veggies from a ziploc bag for dinner (cooked yesterday, used a fork). This came as quite a surprise. But it was a long day, and I couldn't be bothered to get out a plate.

"Couldn't be bothered" and "can't be asked" are two of the funniest British phrases Caroline and Megan say whenever something is just too difficult or not worth the effort. For example--typing a text message to more than one person (french phones are dumb and they only send to one person at a time)? Oh, no, I just couldn't be bothered.

Anyway, school today was enlightening (8 hours worth). First of all, it takes about 10 minutes just to say "Hello" to everyone. Teachers and kids. Every single person. You'd think after the first 12 people they'd call it quits, but they continue. It's great.

This also happens in every day interactions. It's rude not to say "Bonjour" to passerbyers (especially if you go into a shop or something). So that opening sequence in Beauty and the Beast isn't really that far off.

Back to school--the first class I sat in on wasn't that exciting because I didn't get to do anything. The next one was actually an English class--they were doing a crossword puzzle with random words in it such as "Cowboy" "Star" "Flash" "Sandwich" "Jogging" and "Building." The next class I actually got to help teach! We played Simon Says and did a matching game. It's really hard for kids to say "Right or Wrong" so it sounds Chinese, like "White ou wong." At recess all the kids wanted to ask questions about Texas. There must be some confusion about geography. In their minds, the Statue of Liberty and Big Ben probably come from Texas. This cuteness went on for the rest of the day.

A few differences:
- They do math in pen.
- Teachers yell in a funny outraged way.
- You get in trouble for doing extra work that's not your homework.
- You raise your index finger instead of your hand.
- Handwriting is really important. They have to copy everything by hand into a notebook. Not many xeroxed pages.

The word for skeleton in french is "le squelette" which makes it sound even more like a Halloween spook.

==
While all this was happening, our furniture arrived. Apparently French delivery men can dead lift a refrigerator onto a 10 foot terrace. No tools. However, our refrigerator can't be bothered to cool anything for 48 hours or it will explode (or something else dire). And our furniture isn't put together. But it's great to have a mattress on the floor even if it's nothing like a marshmallow.

Today I became a card-carrying member of the Valenciennes library (Bibliotheque).
That's legit.

School today!

Great news--the 10 day forecast says no rain for all 10 days!

Today is my second day of observation. I'll be going to Ecole Gilliard from 8:30-12:30 and the other, Ecole De Gaulle from 12:30-4:30. Luckily they are right down the street from each other.

Now if only I can remember all the teachers' names...

New art for the wall

Hello dear readers!

Lille was great yesterday. We arrived early, so we wiled away an hour sitting at a cafe munching on a pastry and sipping tea. This is what France is all about. There's something great about being still while people are scurrying past you. This cafe was in between the two train stations, so there were lots of folks scurrying.

The doctor's office turned out to be full of other Assistants, so that was the most fun I've ever had in a waiting room. They X-rayed our torsos. They weighed us in kilos, which is great because I only have a vague mathematical understanding of how they convert to pounds. So, there's no reason to feel guilty about eating pastries (yet). Appartently I passed muster, and (translated from french) "Fulfilled the sanitary conditions necessary to be authorised to reside in France."

The best part: we get to keep our chest x-rays. So, I've got this life-size thick black plastic x-ray art to hang on the wall.

Then we went to IKEA and made a mad dash to get the essentials. IKEA here is the same as IKEA at home. There's not much they can change because it's all in Swedish to begin with. It was not fun to haul weighty blue sacks around (in the rain) for an hour back home, but it was incredibly worth it to have rugs, a clock and lamps. That WORK! The electricity is on! And this morning, I made French press coffee. All is right with the world.

Just think, tomorrow we may have furniture.

Electricity

I know I've been mentioning not having electricity for awhile now. But TODAY is the day... hopefully unless the people at the electric company are liars.

Things that will be great about having electricity:
-lights during the night and early morning (i.e. not fumbling around to make a breakfast pbj in the morning or finding documents in the night so they aren't forgotten the next day)
-internet access on demand after not having it for a week and a half
-hot water... and that means COFFEE or TEA! Oh how I've missed them!
-hair dryers
-radiators (towels here don't ever dry unless draped over one for atleast 20 hours)
-refridgerator (no more thrice daily sandwiches)

It will be sorta sad moving out of the doctor's house back to the appartment (across the courtyard). The atmosphere and furnishings are too cool--everythings old and charmingly cluttered and perfect. Also the bed is like 150 years old, and it feels like I'm sleeping in a marshmallow because of the soft mattress, two quilts and a fluffy duvet.

Apparently Dr. Bleuse owns a farm, too. He showed up with a sack of hand-picked apples, walnuts and fresh eggs. Is this even possible? He said we could go visit it next Sunday if we're ready by 9.

Well I better get going. Today Megan and I will go to Lille (the regional capital) for a doctor's visit that will let us get long-stay visas (une carte de sejour). It just so happens that there is an IKEA. And it just so happens that IKEA sells fress press coffee makers, duvet covers, lamps and rugs. Fantastic.

Oh France...

Whenever I get fed up with France, something will charm me and win me back.

Like seeing people drive in reverse down a one-way street to park.
Like a sunny Sunday afternoon dining at an outdoor cafe.
Like watching the Rugby World Cup match between France and New Zealand in a pub and seeing people carrying flags with painted faces and red, white and blue wigs.
Like getting a picture from Sabri at school today.

Outside in the ghetto

Oh yeah

I forgot to tell yall a really important story about yesterday. I forgot my wallet because of rushing to run an errand before going to the bank to set up an account yesterday... this meant no money and also no key to get back inside the apt. building. So I got to sit outside for an hour waiting for Caroline to get back...of course this is when I have my passport, camera and every important document with me. In sketchyville as people drive by the rock lined parking lot in ridiculous cars. Anyway, it ended up okay, a french girl was outside smoking, and we talked awhile. She goes to high school in the small town I am teaching, and it was so fantastic! She is scared of spiders and wants to go to the Grand Canyon. She couldn't believe someone from America would want to go to her part of France.

Also the french word for water tower translates as "castle of water".

Today we went to a french outdoor market and looked at praline peanuts, almond nougat, wool scarves, dry sausages, 9 kinds of cheese and oysters---magnifique!

It is easy to get dressed here. You wear a jacket and scarf if it is really cold. Or if it is cool and sunny ( like today!) , you can wear whatever you want. The more an outfit doesnt match or make any sense together, the more you look like a french person. Voila, le secret.

The fastest I have ever seen french people move...

Lots of news here. Still dont have great internet access hopefullyonce we are in our new appartment we can get it set up with in the month! here is what happened... the studios ended up being no good--they forbid visitors after 8 pm, also the neighborhood was miserable. So yesterday Megan, Caroline and I went looking for a 3 bedroom. Praise the Lord we found one--the third try with 2 real estate agents. (In a market where its supposed to be immpossible nonetheless!) Its amazing-- an upper appartment in a doctors house (it holds his house;his practice; a huge garden; and our 3 bedroom one. Its AMAZING. Not furnished. So tonight he took us furniture shopping and bought beds; a kitchen table and a fridge. He is old and his wife is gone so he said he would be glad to have us nearby. He is so kind. He did not have to buy all the furniture and make it so easy for us to move in. Its supposed to be immposible to move in before 8 days in France. He let us have it the next day. Tomorrow we move out of the small dodgy place in Marly and into the new fabulous one in the old city center. Theres a lot more to the story than I can type. The electricity wont be on until Monday and furniture will arrive Thursday, so he is letting us stay in his kids bedrooms. What amazing blessings. Answered prayers! Cant wait to post photos of the crazy colors in our next appartment!

things are better

Sitting in a neat old stone building right now using the internet on a unsecure line. We'll see how long it lasts. So there's no time for a long post unfortunately.

Today we went to a meeting for all the assistants in Douai. It was great meeting all the other assistants. There must be atleast 15 here that are English speaking.

For some reason I am picking up a British accent. Probably from living next door to Caroline (a British girl from Kent) and Megan (aforementioned). Aforementioned seems like a very British word to use. Tomorrow we get to move into our studios!

Anyway hope all is well back home. Miss you all. Love, Laura

hmmm

Didnt get to move into the final appartment today--the electricity still isnt on.

So Megan and I moved into another appartment in that building. It is not good. We have not seen the other one yet, and now I am worried it will be dodgy like this one. Ahhhhhhhhh.
Examples of roughness:
broken glass window
strange woman on rez-de-chausee
see projects from windows
lots of grafitti about racial tension
not clean
found a kitchen knife next to the bed (why?)
toilets broken
no mirror or shower curtain

Trying to remember this most important fact:
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23

Where to begin...

Salut!

How are you all? So much has happened since my last post. Things are coming together more and more, and it's wonderful to see.

Megan arrived Sunday afternoon (yesterday--was it really only yesterday?). She's from Australia but has been teaching French and Spanish in London for the past year and a half. It's been really fun getting to know her. We'll either be roommates or next door neighbors in the appartment building we're moving to tomorrow in Marly. Today we went wandering around the old city center. It's really lovely here! When it's not so rainy, I'll take pictures and post them.

We got to drive by and see her schools yesterday as well as the appartment building. It's in a suburb of town where a lot of students live. There is a bowling alley, movie theather and Mc Donalds right across the street.

Today Antoinette took me by all three schools, and we spoke with the principals and teachers (six total) who I'll be working in! It was fantastic seeing all the kids. They are precious and made the funniest amazed faces when I was introduced as being from America...from Texas. Altogether, I should have like 12 classes, four at each school per week. My schedule hasn't been set yet though.

Tomorrow, we have a general meeting to go to in a nearby town (Douai--pronounced Do-A) and I get to see Sarah, woohoo! Anyway more later :) I've got to pack for the move tomorrow and kill all the mosquitos remaining in our room so they don't get us tonight. (This is not just a problem in Texas--it's worse here because the windows don't close all the way!) Bonne nuit!

Bonjour Valenciennes!

Whew! Finally in Valenciennes... awake at 3:56 am... But it's great to be here. And it won't be necessary to haul suitcases around for two more days!

Getting here was quite a thing. It was funny hauling giant suitcases through tiny french doors. It was awful parting ways with Sarah. I now know the heartache of watching two train doors hiss closed right in front of your nose. And then not open when you push the button. Repeatedly. This happened once this morning. But it ended up alright. Because I missed that train, I got to take the next one and sit by a lady with an adorable maltese puppy named kiko :)

It's cold here. 14,5 C to be exact. Maybe in the 50s? People don't mess around with cold here. They are all wearing down jackets already.

Antoinette (the teacher responsible for me) and her husband Phillippe came to collect me at the train station. They are so wonderfully kind! They captured my heart with friendly smiles and Leonidas chocolates. We had lunch at their house, and then left my bags at a place I can stay until Tuesday (some sort of housing for young people?). She sent me with some food to eat tomorrow (everything's closed here on Sunday), but only essential things (bread, milk, etc) because I'll be moving so soon. One essential thing? Two different kinds of cheese-- as if they couldn't fathom a day without cheese. One of them was unpastureized. As Phillippe said "This is not legal in the United States, but as you see...we are still living."

By the way, I just got to video chat with my family on skype. Fantastic!

Een blog maken | Hello Brussels

Nieuw bericht

Haha this site opened up in dutch! How grand. We're safely settled in a Brussels hotel room for the night. Our flights went off without a hitch. The only mildly troubling part of the day was waiting for the hotel to pick us up (this involved standing outside with a sign made out of the back of our boarding pass in orange highlighter).

It was a tease flying through London and not getting to really go there. Not even for a passport stamp. Just long enough to almost miss our plane (they didn't announce it was boarding--a nice girl just asked us if we were going and told us to get in line). God's been watching out for us.

The most fun was this evening walking around the Grand Place with a video camera. Tonight we feasted on warm waffles covered in tiramisu ice cream. Pictures to follow.

Also, just so everyone knows, doe het zelf is "do it yourself" in dutch.

It's TOMORROW

Hello dear readers!

My toothpaste is almost out so, I guess it's time to move.

Simultaneously, I also wish that waking up in the morning would bring another month at home.

There are no words for right now. So that makes this difficult to write. The great news is that logistics are falling smartly into place. You are reading this. Skype is up and running. The farewell tour lent a sense of completeness. I am now almost tired of barbeque, mexican food and fried chicken that is actually 'finger-lickin good' (things that don't exist in France). The hotel's picking us up from the Brussels airport. Antoinette Veron (the teacher 'responsible' for me) will collect me at the train station in Valenciennes on Saturday, then we get to eat lunch together and see the appartment and schools!

The sad side is missing all the fantasticness of home. Family. Friends. Church. Texas A&M. Hay bales. Cornbread. HEB. Monday Mornings. Really cheap cell phone minutes. When I get home, it will be time to paint. The other day my mom was thinking about how lots of paintings in museums were of everyday things. We think of them as unusual because we don't live in Europe or the 18th Century. To the artist, this stuff was just sitting around. It's funny how you start to savor every unique image of a place when you know you're about to leave. Maybe that's why people like to travel so much. It's a constant sense of alertness and discovery.

So praise the Lord, O my soul! The adventures is about to begin.

Please keep me updated on what's going on with you! I'll try to be faithful in replying and posting. If you download skype from http://www.skype.com/, you can talk to me for free. Look for me to be online Sunday afternoon (central time).

Much love,
Laura