Tweaking things

Ok, so before I launch into my fabulous Christmas stories, I want you to check out the recent changes to my blog.
1. Check out my sister's blog via the link...just this way, folks >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Now you can get stories from both sides of the region

2. If you look at the bottom of this post, you will see a place where you can mark your reactions to my posts (check all that apply).

Are you ready to hear how a church was closed for Christmas, how we navigated the metro with all odds against us, how Laura got locked inside a train, and how I was subjected to foie gras yet again?  Stayed tuned!
--Mary

P.S. More comments equals more stories

How do they find me?

The crazy people, I mean.  Not the ones who are actually mentally ill, just the ones who do obnoxious things in public.

The other night I went out with the other assistants.  We went to a crepe restaurant because we wanted dinner, but the waitress told us that the kitchen was closing in an hour and a half, so they could only serve desserts (which doesn't make sense, because they would have to heat up our dessert crepes anyway). So, we had dessert before dinner. The reason I mention this is because I ate a crepe with a filling called Speculoos, which is a delicious cookie, as well as a peanut butter/ nutella spread (it tastes like cinnamon). Yeah, it just might replace nutella in my life. :)

Then we went out for dinner. Let me remind you, however, that the assistants are very nice people and definitely not the people I was referring to at the beginning of this post.  There is more to come on that subject.

I TASTED HORSE MEAT!  Ok, I was a little nervous at first, but it just tastes like strong beef.  It's not bad, it just tugged at my conscience a little.

After dinner, we went to a little bar around the corner from the restaurant.  It was more like a pub, really.  I love the decor in this particular pub, because it makes me want to go there to have intellectual discussions.  You know, like the old French, philosophers.

Anyway, I tried a beer called pecheresse, which is like beer with peach syrup in it (so it isn't half bad). I must have been digging for an intellectual discussion, because we all starting talking about linguistics and the relationship between language and society.  It was just getting exciting when...

These three guys came up to our table.  In the background, there had previously been a party of Frenchmen who had been loudly singing and laughing.  The other assistants reasoned that I had become the object of a dare, because they all came up to me and asked if I spoke French.  Then they introduced themselves (only to me).  The first guy shook my hand, the second guy shook my hand, and the third guy gave me la bise, at which the first guy claimed to be jealous and gave me la bise as well (the third guy was luckily stuck behind a pillar, or else I would have been kissed again).

For all those who don't know what la bise is: In greeting , the French kiss each other on both cheeks. In this region, they start on the right and go to the left, but it varies (sometimes they do three!).  When you have been the victim of la bise as many times as I have, you start to get used to it.  Perfect strangers give it when they first meet.  Friends will greet each other every single day with la bise (coming and going)...and that's when it gets ridiculous. 

They asked me if they could come home with me and I gave a firm, but polite, no and sent them back to their table where they proceeded to start blowing kisses at us at intervals.  Finally, Laura called me and I had to leave. As I got up, they shouted at me to come to their table. ("Mary, VIENT!!") I shook my head and kept walking to the sound of them shouting my name throughout the pub. ("MARY MARY MARY MARY!") AWKWARD!  I have never been so targeted in my life.

How do they find me, these crazy people?!?!?

Stories and Lessons

So, the last bit of the last post was what you call "stringing the readers along."  The headline is usually better than the story, just so you know.

Anyway, last week we went to Strasbourg for the Christmas Markets.  They definitely have the best Christmas Markets I've seen outside of Germany.  Take a look at my pictures, and you'll see what I mean.

(Now that I've revisited these pictures, I think I didn't take any pictures of the actual Christmas Market, just the houses around it...oops!)

 I think it's safe to say that I want to live in a house like these (not that squished together, just the architectural style)

 There were a ton of musicians on the streets.  There was one band that had this guy playing the weirdest instrument I've ever seen:  it was like a guitar-harp-glockenspiel. When I find out what it was, I'll let you know.

 Ok, so I have one picture of a cool hut.  Witches are really big in Strasbourg, but we couldn't figure out why.

The chalets sold everything from decorations to the best kind of food.  Since we were sort of on a food mission, we tried vin chaud (I caved for the rouge because it was cheaper, not because I like it better than the blanc) and got these really cool boots to drink it in.  We also ate bretels, boules de mousse (which is a chocolate covered marshmellow).  When it came time for lunch, we went around trying to find out the price of the sausages (which is difficult, because they don't advertise it so you can't compare prices...which is what we were trying to do...).  We must have been standing too close to one of the booths (there is a space beyond which they cannot consider you a customer), because the sausage guy started shouting at us in English (he overheard us talking).  We told him we spoke French, but he waved us closer to talk to us (and sell us sausages).  He then noticed that Laura and I were twins (we were also with our lovely friend Sam, who is, unfortunately for the sausage man, very vegetarian).  He said "oh look, one for me and one for my friend here (the guy cooking the sausages).  Do you accept, do you accept?"  We both gave him a blank stare.  In between confirming our orders, he kept saying, "do you accept?"  even though we kept saying no.  Since Laura and I were keen on eating sausages anyway, we totally fell for his selling scheme.  Whatever, it was funny.  I didn't even really get a choice of sausage, he made me choose the white (which was ok, Laura really liked it) and he made Laura put a sauce on hers, even though she said no to sauce about three times.  Once they get you talking, they can sell you anything.  But, even when the sausage was safely in my possession, he still kept asking me if I accepted.  Sheesh! He wasn't too bad looking, so he'll probably have a girlfriend by the end of the Markets.

 The cathedral.  we couldn't go inside because they were in the middle of a live nativity which we didn't have time to see.  I still like the cathedral in Metz better...

Sleepy river...

Lessons: I've learned that...

 - I am not a duck.  When my feet get wet and cold, I get sick, like I did this weekend. Hrumphf!

That's all for now.  I have to get enough sleep and recover from this cold!
--Mary

Adorable moment of the day...

So, I was teaching a class on Christmas in the USA (something I think I'll be doing for the rest of my life it seems!).  As an icebreaker, I asked the students for their name, age, and what they wanted for Christmas.  The answers went something like this:

"Phone"
"Computer"
"book"
"hair straightener"

and then,

"I want an English dictionary."

I nearly choked. "Umm..." I said, holding back the laughter (this is one of the kids who is in love with me) "get the Oxford English dictionary!"  SO ADORABLE!

More to follow about my adventures in Strasbourg (and how the guy selling sausages tried to get me to go on a date with him).

I knew that would pique your interest.

--Mary

More Food Adventures and random thoughts...

I don't seem to have time to write about all of my adventures.  Here are some things from the past week:

On Monday evening, I attended another one of my English learning dinners with some of the locals.  This time, we had quiche lorraine made by one lady's 12-year-old daughter.  It was so good.  We started with (I can't remember the french word, but it's when they make wine with frozen grapes...I think it was an Alsatian word...) white wine, followed by smoked salmon on tzaziki sauce (even though they called it cheese.  I could see what it was on the label...ah the french!) followed by more of the white wine.  Then, we ate the quiche and a salad I brought.  And followed it with some Merlot.  Then we ate cheese: brie, reblouchon, comte, some smelly cheese that tasted good, and rochefort (which I had tasted earlier in the day with my students during a dégustation)

On Saturday, I went with Laura to Paris for the day (yeah...I live close enough to do that.)  The idea was to see the Christmas Markets, but they were just fried food and Parisian souvenirs, so we spent the day with our friend Jonathan. We had lunch in a French cafe, tasted some vin chaud blanc (which is better than the rouge in my opinion), and went to a very ritzy salon du the for some pastries.  The restaurant was called Angelina's on the Rue de Rivoli (near the Tulleries metro stop), and they are apparently world famous for their hot chocolate and a pastry called Mont Blanc (which also comes in chocolate, Daddy).  The prices were a bit steep for three penniless travelers, so we all opted for a pastry instead of the hot chocolate.  I had the Choc Africain, which is like...a thin brownie covered in a one-inch layer of soft chocolate with a dollop of whipped chocolate something-or-other on the top.  It was amazing.  Laura tried the Mont Blanc and Jonathan tried the Mont Blanc chocolate edition.  I tried both, and I have to say that there isn't much difference in taste--they are both amazing.  They make the Mont Blanc from a 100-year-old secret recipe.


Sadly, I didn't take any pictures.  I guess I'll have to go back some day.

The metro on the way back was atrocious.  It's really a good thing that I'm not claustrophobic, or I would have died.  The city was extra crowded because of tourists for the Christmas Markets. I'm really glad I don't live in Paris.

Last night, as we were walking home, we were given some guy's phone number that he shouted out the window at us.  I'm pretty sure he was either drunk, or one of my students.  The number ended in a six...


Today, I went to mass with one of the other assistants and then stayed with them for lunch.  It was one of those relaxing type days (even though I don't have time to do such a thing).  Now to lesson planning!  Why does school have to be in session tomorrow?  Christmas can't come soon enough.

Metz-ing around

This past weekend, I went with the other assistants from Verdun and my sister to Metz to see the Marché de Noël - which was all over the city.  We tasted churros, which the French pronounce as shehros (or chi-chi, which they pronounce as she-she).  According to my friend Chico, they were not very authentically Spanish.  Then we went to Flunch for lunch, which is this crazy cafeteria place where you choose your salad and stuff, then your meat.  You pay for that stuff, then collect your meat from any station and pick out your starches/veggies.  It was good, but not good enough for me to go back.

Feeling cold, we decided to spend the rest of the day indoors.  We went to the Centre Pompidou, which is a modern art museum (like the one in Paris).  They have three floors.  My favorite floor was the top floor.  It was a black and white photography exhibit, except the room was completely dark and they gave us flashlights to explore (that we had to crank up constantly, or they wouldn't have enough light to see anything).  Great idea, but poorly executed.  I think the fact that we got bored was part of the problem.  Laura, Steffi, and Chico had a flashlight war while Rosie and I tried to actually view the pictures.

On the second floor, they had a wall exhibit.  I kid you not.  They were these walls that were painted and had lines drawn on them.  When we first walked in, they had these square designs on the wall facing.  It looked like they used to have paintings on them, but they had been taken down.  That's what I thought, anyway, until I realized that all the walls were like that.  oops!

My roommate tells me that they change the exhibits all the time, so I might go back sometime.  It's worth more than one visit, according to the assistants who live in Metz.

 The walls exhibit.  Personally, the bottom picture reminds me of Ventures...

 --Ciao!
Mary

Snow! oh my!

Yesterday, we had our first major snow.  Luckily, I left for my school just as it was starting, so I was spared the "abominable snowman" look when I arrived at my lycée.

I've decided to learn how to say "hello" in obscure languages.  My students always say hi to me as I pass, but just saying hello like a CD recording is getting dull.  (My American accent sounds CD perfect next to theirs--even though it isn't).  I've decided to completely confuse them.  Maybe I should learn a sentence or two of Japanese, or some African language.  *cue evil laugh*

Funny story: Last week, one of my terminale students said "bonjour" instead of hello like all the other students do.  I responded with hello because I had just said it to the group of students right in front of him.  Later, I thought, I should have answered in French.  (I don't think that students should be forced to speak English outside of English class.)  Anyway, I felt bad about it.  "No wonder they're scared of me!" I thought.  (True story: I had 18 and 19-year-olds running away from me in the kitchen because they didn't want to speak English with me--even the ones who are twice my size.  Get a grip on it, people!).  Well, this week he said "now I'm going to say hello."  Progress in teaching?  I'd like to think that.  With all the "horrible teenagers" I have to deal with, I sometimes feel like I won't make a difference in their miserable lives (yeah, their English is that bad, even though they've studied it since primary school).

Plus, teenagers are just large children.  I don't find them to be as difficult to deal with as the teachers seem to, but I think that's because I'm young and new and interesting and they really don't have a good enough command of English to thoroughly insult me (but they try, believe me, they try.  They got very close to a tongue-lashing from me once, but I was too speechless to respond the the comment). My lycée students are just kids, really.  They are kind of cute and charming (as much as teenagers can be) and they remind me of larger versions of my collège students.  They do things in class that they think I can't see (but I TOTALLY can).  In case you can't tell, I'm liking my lycée experience a lot more than my other school.  It's not that the teachers are nicer in one than the other or the students are better, I just seem to get along with my lycée (plus, it's more interesting and I have some freedom in what I do). 

This is a rant; I'm sorry for that.  It's because I'm faced with my other school for the rest of the week and I'm not looking forward to it.  Sigh.

Christmas Magic

Tonight, in the small town of Verdun France, the air is filled with the magic of Christmas.  The streets glitter and twinkle.  I went for a walk this evening with my camera (even though my roommate insisted it was cold out there) and tried to absorb it all.  Instead, I came back with some pixelated photos.

  Now that I've just been paid, I want to go out and buy presents.  The Christmas Market is almost ready.  Christmas is almost here.
--Mary

L'amour

Ah! the French and love and romance were made for each other.  Lately, my sister and I were watching a french movie wherein two teenagers got married.  When the priest tried to impress upon them that marriage is until death they replied that they still wanted to be married.  He then rolled his eyes to heaven and said "L'amour, Seigneur, l'amour" as if to say, "they're French and in love, Lord. There's nothing I can do about it!"

The French are very sensitive people, not in the way that their feelings are easily hurt, but in the way that flowers, perfume, art, love, fashion, and food interest all of them very much. They live for the finer things in life.  As a culture, they are the sanguines (where the Brits are the melancholics), and tend to be melodramatic about everything.

(Ok, these are big generalizations, not all the French are like that)

I currently have at least two of my little students in love with me at the moment (in a little boy admiration kind of way).  Today, one of them told me "You are a charmer!".  I don't know if he meant "charmer" or "charming" but he seemed extremely pleased with himself that he said something to me in English.  The other one stares at me with puppy dog eyes (especially when he is supposed to be looking in the opposite direction). Oh. So. French.  I think it will wear off soon.

Speaking of staring, they do that a lot more here.  I've learned the language of looking.  There is the common stare, which is more like looking (the stare people use for looking into thin air, shop windows, etc.)  Then, there is the people stare (when you look at the people walking past you on the street and actually make eye contact--yikes--or watch people eating soup through the glass window of a cafe--I saw this in Luxembourg where people actually paused to watch the show, so to speak).  It is very non-confrontational. Then there is the look-you-once-over-with-a-cheeky-grin stare (yeah, make a wild guess at who does that, guys or girls?).  This is the most disconcerting of all the staring and it takes a while to get used to (and not get paranoid at the other types of staring).  If the girl is pretty enough according to the starer's standards, the stare will be accompanied by a low whistle, a song, or a "jolie fille" as they pass.

The French are quick to pick up on flirting and interpret it wherever they can.  My sister told me a story of how she was trying to help a little boy by asking him questions until her understood what she was trying to teach him, but one of the other students then remarked "encore et toujours" meaning *eyelash flutter*  I think my students sometimes see flirting as a way of impressing people (since they can't do that with their English abilities).  Luckily, the stream has boiled off, so to speak, and we are attempting professionalism (ahem, meaning, I don't have to shout at them all day long for their cheekiness).  But, perhaps this is because I haven't had classes with my "beloved" pastry cooks in a while. 

The French are so sweet when it comes to romance.  Everyday, whenever I see couples walking, no matter what the age, they always hold hands (generally).  They love their children and they love their old people.  I would say that they thing the French care about the most is relationships--friends, family, lovers, spouses, and pets.

Kitchen Adventures :)

So, here are some pictures from my latest cooking exploits:


This, my friends, is a red kuri squash, also known as a potimarron.  This is what they eat instead of pumpkin.  It has a slightly nutty flavor, but other than that, it is just like pumpkin (and perhaps less watery).  It made a splendid pie.  Normally, the French just make soup out of it.  My roommates tasted my pie and said they liked it.  They seemed a little confused as to why the French never thought to sweeten it.

 I baked them cut side down to let the juice drain out (although, they weren't watery to begin with).

 Voila! Here is the baking pie (although with my potato supper):

 The finished pie, destined to be consumed with turkey, cranberries, and stuffing:

 Since I now have a pie pan, I decided to start making pies for myself.  I started out with a suggestion from the pie dough box - veggie pie.  I kinda followed the recipe, but added mushrooms and red pepper instead of eggplant, because I forgot to buy one.

 I don't have a finished picture of this one because I ate it.  All I can say is, it was tasty :)

until next time,
mary

I've learned...

...that the French word for tender (as in, soft) is moelleux and not tendre.  You should have seen the face of one of my students when I tried to ask him if he cooked the spinach until it was tendre (as in, romantic/emotional).

..that my students really love the fact that my name is Mary (and that Mary sounds very similar to merry).  They now say "Merry Christmas" every time they see me :)

...that Nicolas is a very popular name around here and that most troublemakers are named Nicolas. It's also popular because back during the crusades, some knights brought a relic of St. Nicolas back with them and built a cathedral to house the relic (just outside Nancy).  Thus, this is why the fete de Saint Nicolas is coming up this weekend! (party on, people...)

...that the French eat a lot. (no, seriously, they do).  Even a French person has told me this.  Why are they so thin, then, you might ask? They know how to enjoy food.  If they eat a lot one day, they scrimp on the next; if they eat pastries one day, they don't on the next. They also don't eat chips or crackers or drink tons of soda, so there you go.  I'm also not saying that I haven't seen fat French people, because I have.  It is just less of an epidemic than in the US of A.  Eating is not a mindless activity.  Oh, and knowing how to cook (well) is important (at least, it's a question my students ALWAYS ask me).

...that I don't like teaching.  But I think I knew that before I came.  It's just too much work. I much prefer just talking to the kids (like I do in the hotellerie). 

...that the tea I just bought smells better than it tastes--which is why I kind of let the teabag sit in my room longer than it should :)

...how to make tuilpe (a type of pastry) and how to flamee  mirabelle (the local kind of plum.  They make mirabelle EVERYTHING!)  It was quite delicious!

--Mary

message sans titre...

This is more of a catching up post.

Let's see, last week I got a new roommate, aced my OFII medical visit (for my visa), met some new assistants (including one from Chicago, YAY!), went to Nancy (twice), went to confession in French (major goal accomplished), made a truly French pumpkin pie (with a potimarron, or as it it known as in English, a red kuri squash), ate a delicious Thanksgiving dinner put on by the Nancy assistants, rocked my six-classes-in-one-day Thursday, learned logistics vocabulary with my students, and watched a French movie without subtitles (and still laughed hysterically).

So, as you can see, I've been terribly busy.  Thanksgiving was a blast, but exhausting nonetheless.  I have to say, I've met some pretty nice people here and I am very thankful for that.  My OFII exam thing was a little scary, but with the other assistants to laugh and joke around with (and enjoy pumpkin soup with!) it wasn't half bad  (thank you so much, guys!!!  I had a lot of fun, even though Paul coffee isn't all it's cracked up to be).  This week (unusually) I had class with some logistics students to help them learned some useful phrases in English to help them with their jobs.  I laughed so much with them.  It was great!  There was a Nicolas in each group and each Nicolas was a troublemaker (the teacher had to chase one of them around the room and finally sent "le monstre" out into the hallway!).  Such fun in English class.

If you want to see pictures of Thanksgiving, check out my sister's blog.

That's all for now!
Mary

Did you see my new header?

I've added stickers to all the places I've been!

Well, ok, when I studied abroad, I went to London, Rome, and Venice, so I decided it was about time I showed that I'm a world traveler.

Until next time (I think if I wait long enough, adventure might find me...as in, it already did today.  I have a new, temporary roommate named Charlotte).

Mary

Catching Up

Wow, so much has happened since I last posted.

Well, I never wrote about our trip to Dijon.  It was very nice and relaxing.  We ate snails and boeuf bourguignon and bought wine for Christmas.  I consider the people of Dijon to be very French--almost more French than the people in Lorraine.  I don't know why, they just look like it.

And yes, we bought lots of mustard :)

Luckily, it was slightly warmer than it was in Luxembourg, so we went walking in some vineyards around Beaune.  We also bought some wine there.  When the proprietor of the wine shop found out we were American, he was very happy to show off his English.  He was ecstatic when we complimented him on his accent.

 When we were passing by vineyards on our way from Dijon to Beaune, I kept thinking to myself "Wow, their corn is brown and they really cut it tall!"  Then I realized I wasn't looking at corn.  Silly Illinois girl!

 I have a collection of organ pictures from around Europe that I am slowly adding to.  Organs like these really shake the church when the organist "pulls out all the stops".

  Typical Dijon

I think it's so cute when French people speak English with me.  At first, I was offended, thinking that my French wasn't good enough for them.  But then I realized that they wanted to show me how well they speak (which is a very cute, French thing to do).  Plus, it gives them the opportunity to practice.  It's not something Americans would do at all.  (Therein lies the charm of the French people--in their pride.  Not a single one of them would speak badly about their country.  To all of them, France is the greatest nation on earth.)

Then, when I got home, Laura and two other assistants, Anna and Suzie, came to visit me in Verdun.  We had a wonderful time cooking and going to see the monuments around Armistice day.

On Armistice day itself, I went to Mass at the Cathedral and was surprised to find a crowd of people carrying flags.  After Mass, we processed out of the church and to the Memorial of Victory in the center of town to get this flame out of the crypt.  I realized that they were taking the flame on foot to the Douaumont (tomb).  I ended up just going home instead.

Then classes began again.  It was nice to see my students again.  Some of them really like me, and others are afraid of me (or, afraid to speak English, rather).  I have to say, I was very proud of them for remembering as much as they did after a vacation (Although, one kid asked me how old I was instead of "how are you?".  I'm sure I did the exact same thing when I was learning French.)

Then on Monday night I went to a French dinner again.  This time we had raclette, which is a special kind of cheese melted over potatoes and charcutrie (meat?).  It's probably my favorite French meal so far because it seesm to be the kind of thing normal French people eat every day.  This time we spoke mostly in English because I was helping one of the Patricks with some vocabulary for an interview.  But, yet again, we left very late and I had to get up early the next morning.  One of the teachers told me that with Philippe, it's always like this.  I don't really mind, but I'm still tired!!

Now, to some teaching, some lesson planning, some trip reserving, and some novel writing!

Ciao,
Mary

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Luxembourg

(Ok, so we didn't actually hitchhike across Luxembourg. It just sounded like a good title.)

There are surprisingly few guides out there on the country of Luxembourg.  Everything we did there we discovered by creeping on the tourism websites of various cities.  Being the poor college graduates that we are, we skipped most of the museums and went more for the culture (I don't even read most of the signs in museums anyway).  This idea would have been splendid except for the fact that the temperature dropped ten degrees just before we left.

It. Was. FREEZING.  Our first day we spent in Luxembourg City (or, Luxembourg Ville), hopping from cafes to churches, back to cafes.  The nice thing about churches (even though they are not heated...this explains why everyone leaves their coats on during Mass...) is that no one will disturb you if you want to spend a holy hour (or two).  In cafes, once you've finished your coffee and don't seem that interested in talking to your companion, they want you to leave.

Our favorite thing about Luxembourg City is the gorge that runs through it.  It makes one feel like a mountain goat when clambering up and down.

In Luxembourg, public transportation is extremely easy (once you know how to use it).  That night, we traveled to Vianden and ended up on a bus (...well, first a train to Ettelbruck, and then a bus) with some other assistants.  We all ended up sharing a room at the hostel.

(A note about buses: You can buy your tickets on the bus.  You MUST push the red button if you want to stop and get off because they won't stop at every stop.  Almost learned this the hard way.  Other than that, they are extremely efficient.  Some even display the next stop on a screen.)

In Vianden, we went to see the castle. That took an hour at most.  Then we walked down the hill that the town is built on and back up again.  This is when we decided to go on a short hike.  That "short" hike had us scrambling to get back to the hostel before dark.  We only went a couple of miles, but it was through mountainous hills where the paths zigzagged so much that we hardly got anywhere.  The view was totally worth the sore muscles:

 The Castle.  The best view is from the hill behind the hostel.

 Vianden

 The mountain path

 We hiked all the way to another village, only stopped about a quarter of a mile away before turning back.

 Luxembourg is a very Catholic country.  The is a chapel we encountered on our mountain hike.
The next day we visited Eechternatch, which isn't really worth a visit.  The basilica and the cathedral were nice, but the abbey is now a school, so the only thing to do is walk around.  I didn't take many pictures.

 The one cool thing is that the border between Germany and Luxembourg is right there.  They had this plaque on the bridge between the two:

 The last day we spent in Luxembourg City (again), checking out the ducal palace and the casemates (definitely worth a visit!!)

That's all for now.  Just remember to always bring a towel when hitchhiking around Luxembourg!
--Mary

In which I am tricked

Ok, so I've endured some craziness over the past few days, which I hope will end shortly.  By that I mean the students.

Yesterday, I went to the kitchen to speak with the students who were there preparing dinner.  It was a Spanish dinner, so they were making Paella (which smelled delicious!).  I also got to participate in a cheese degustation where the students had to comment on the flavor of two cheeses (one of which was served at the dinner I went to.  It was great, considering I knew everything there is to know about its consistency).  I have to say, my favorite part of my job is going to the kitchen, because I learn things about cooking (and the students are very dedicated when they are in the kitchen.  There is a bit of goofiness, but much less!)


Again, I ask myself, why are teenage boys so much trouble? AHHHH!!! Today, I had the cooks (the ones I saw yesterday, who were decent human beings in the kitchen).  Not that they were bad or anything today, just very tired and not very talkative.  They told me they love English, but I find that a little hard to believe.  It is just very hard for them because of their hectic schedules.  Today they were supposed to talk about a certain vet who has a TV show, but they all just kept repeating the same info over and over again.  That's what paella will do to you...

The tricky ones are the pastry cooks...you really have to watch them.  Today, a group of them talked me into letting them go five minutes early because they always do that before lunch. AHH!!! I only let them go because a) I could, since they didn't have anything else to say about drivers licenses, b) the teacher said I could c) I am gullible and don't understand the French system of breaks.  Never again.

Now to lesson planning (I am making some Halloween games), writing on my novel, and sleep!

Royal Wedding

I wrote most of this post a few days ago...thus, the interesting use of "today": 


And I don't mean the movie with Fred Astair, although, after today, I could just as well dance on the ceiling:





Today I went to Luxembourg with some friends to see the capitol, and it just happened to be the same day as the wedding between now Princess Stephanie and Prince Guillaume of Luxembourg (heir to the throne).  We got to Luxembourg Ville around the time when the wedding was supposed to end and waited patiently with the crowd.  Nobody knew if the royal couple was going to pass our way or not, but they saw everyone else standing there, so naturally they assumed....perfect example of the herd effect, ladies and gents.

Anyway, we saw the guard marching in (part of their army of 900)

 This was my view of the royal couple: (That black speck is the car they are getting into)

 This is what the cameras saw:

 Aren't they an adorable couple!  Every shop had the official engagement photo proudly displaying in their front window.  Oh, they were so proud!

A few random obeservations about the people of Luxembourg:
 - they look like the Belgians.  I expected them to look French, for some reason.
- they act French, that is to say, they are jokers.  (The man at ice cream truck wouldn't answer our questions unless we bought something.  He tried to sell us a mug with the royal couple on it so that we would think about true love every morning with our coffee.  He also kept raising the price of his postcards.)
 - they all speak at least three languages.  Everyone we encountered spoke French, some German, sometimes English, and probably Luxembourgish (yes, a country smaller than the state of Rhode Island has its own, unique language.  Is that cute or what?  New thing on my bucket list: learn Luxembourgish)
 - their motto seems to be, small but great.  They are very proud of their country, as they should be.
 Luxembourg is so beautiful.  I can't wait to go back.  Is it possible to fall in love with a country?  I think so.

In which I eat foie gras and survive

Ok, I have so many stories to tell, but I will delay them in favor of this one so I won't forget my experience with The French Dinner.

So tonight, I was invited to a french home for a french meal so I could speak English with the host and his friends.  I was a bit nervous because I know the french care about food very much.

Being the American that I am, I was the first arrive. Luckily, the host was already done with dinner or that could have been awkward.  Everyone else arrived soon after and we had appetizers with some sort of sweet white wine.  (They asked me about the French wines I've tasted...so French). 
EDIT: I think I forgot to mention that we had a large bowl of soup as the starter

They are all very nice people, but they don't speak English very much.  I'm not sure how well they speak because we spoke in French most of the evening. Most of them are local teachers (I asked one what he does for a living and he said "I'm a teacher, but it's not my fault."  He also speaks french in an italian accent which it pretty hysterical.  It's like the Godfather in French.) Oh, and that's another thing, I got kissed so many times with "la bise" that I was sure that I was blushing.  To start with the right or the left, that is the question!

Ok, I have to admit, foie gras is not as bad as I thought it was going to be.  It tastes kind of like rare/medium rare meat paste (with that earthy, blood taste).  My host cooked it with mushrooms and truffles and served it on a salad with mashed potatoes.

Whoever thinks the French are starving themselves with their portion sizes have never eaten chez M. Philippe.  I was halfway through the main course (and two glasses of wine later) before I realized I was full and that there were at least two more courses to come.  I tried to polish off my plate as best I could, but I couldn't stomach the foie gras very well.  I think it is because I have eaten meat so little since I got here that it was a little too rich for me. (I thought I was going to throw up...twice.   Man, that would have been embarrassing.)

Then came the cheese.  Earlier in the day (this is another story I must tell) I got to taste some cheese called Quentin (I think).  It's kind of like swiss cheese.  Because I was already stuffed (and skipping a course is rude) I took a small sliver.

Then came the dessert.  They had some sort of pear cake (the man who brought it, Jacques, did not know what it was) and apple tart.  I had the tart (made by Philippe) because I thought the cake had too many eggs in it (and being as sick as I felt) did not want to up-chuck both my dinner and my dessert.

Then was coffee.  Since, but this time, it was 10:30 or so, I had decaf (to the horror of everyone present).  After that, they made me try some Mirabelle liquor by dipping a sugar cube in some.  Very strong, but tasty and fruity.  I don't think I could drink the stuff. (As the evening progressed, I had to remind myself that every one of these frenchies could drink me under the table.

I got home at 11:30.  (Jacques kindly took me home so I didn't have to walk in the dark).  The meal started at 7 and ended at 11:15ish.  Halfway through (probably when I realized I was full), I stopped talking.  That happens a lot when I am tired (you'll see why I was tired in a future post).  I thought my head was going to hit the table.

The French talk a lot.  Because I was so tired, my comprehension went down (plus the fact that there were three conversations spinning around me.  Every now and then, Elizabeth or Jacques would fill me in on the context, which really helped).  When we decided to get together again, we talked in a circle which included something about a show in the theater and a man who plays any kind of music on an organ (both, completely unrelated to scheduling).  Whatever we decided (I'm still not sure of the outcome of that conversation) we are planning to speak more English at the next party (and perhaps eat snails?) It was fun, but now my head is spinning and my stomach is bursting (well, not quite).

Ah! It's midnight and I have to sleep!!!

Our FAVORITE Assistant

So today, I was introducing myself to some collegians and then they had to write a summary together as a class.  The teacher prompted them, "Our new (blank) assistant is Mary."

One wonderful child promptly answered: "Our new favorite assistant is Mary."  I think the answer we were looking for was "English", but "favorite" works for me!  Hands down the best class ever!
 

Bon Appétit!

When my students ask me what my favorite thing about France is, I usually say, the FOOD.  Here is what I've been munching on lately:

1. La religeuse.  A puff pastry consisting of a cream puff stacked on top of another cream puff.  I've had these in both chocolate and coffee flavors.  Best. Dessert. Ever.  Well, except for maybe Nutella Tiramisu, or apple tart with ice cream, or madeleines... Anyway, it kind of looks like a nun with a filly white collar.  Super cute.

 Speaking of madeleines, they are fluffy cookies that are a specialty of the Lorraine region.  I just bought a bag from the store that are made in the region itself.  I would post a picture, but that would require opening the bag, unwrapping a madeleine, then eating it... let's just say I've eaten more than my share for today.

Ok, so French grocery stores don't really make sense to me.  I'm just getting used to the one I shop at, and frankly, every time I go there, I try to find a part I haven't explored yet.  I think to myself, "that corner in the back, that item MUST be there."  Sure enough, that item ISN'T there, and probably does not exist in France (like Mac n cheese, for example.  I knew it didn't exist, but I thought I'd check, just to be sure.  I found a package of regular pasta and got all excited because I thought I was wrong, but no, it was just pasta. That's ok, I know how to make it from scratch.)

Anyway, because I need vegetables in my life, I try to buy fresh salad and things.  I picked up a bag of what I though was baby spinach (come on, that's what it looks like) and didn't give it a second thought (like, actually reading the package.  My brain must have been in French overload, or something). When it came time to use said 'spinach' I realized that it wasn't spinach at all.  So I pulled out my dictionary and sure enough, it is this thing called Lamb's Lettuce.

Now those of us from the 'ol US of A, are scratching our heads asking, what on earth is that?  That's because it DOESN'T EXIST in the good 'ol US of A.  It grows wild, but is not domesticated.  So, frankly, I didn't know what to do with it. After a good Google search, I decided to cook it (you can eat it fresh or cooked like spinach).  When cooked with some garlic and mushrooms, it's pretty good, actually.

So, here's what's for dinner: pizza (with weird olives) mache with mushrooms, and garlic bread.  Yum!

Malade.

So, after my day in Metz, I caught a cold--a generous gift from my students.  On Sunday, I went to Mass (where we celebrated the anniversary of Vatican II).  At Mass, I ran into one of the other assistants and she invited me to the other lycee where the other assistants live.  They invited me to stay for lunch.  The Spanish assistant made paella for lunch.  It. Was. SOOOO. Good.

The rain pattered outside and we ate delicious paella in a warm kitchen.  It was a good day.

Well, then, I went home in the pouring rain and was sick for the rest of the day with a sore throat and runny nose.  Today, I might have had a low-grade fever, but it went away after I took some aspirin.  After teaching a class by myself, I felt fine (note: I did not know I was going to be the sole teacher, but I'm glad I didn't, otherwise I may have broken out in hives again.) Aside from a coughing fit in the hotelerie, it hasn't really interfered with my teaching.

Oh, I don't think I mentioned it, but the stress was giving me hives (really strange).  My cure was long walks, cheerful music, singing in the shower, and long chats with my sister.

I am definitely looking forward to getting better soon!

What a Metz!

Prononcez...Metz,  like mess...

Apparently, the people of Metz get very offended when the name of their city is mispronounced.  Luckily, I learned the right way.

"He meant to get to Rome, because he heard that there were such pleasant winters there. So he turned up at Metz in August.’
‘I don’t see why.’
‘No more did he. He never was great in geography, you know; and somehow he thought that Metz, pronounced French fashion, must be on the road to Rome. Some one had told him so in fun....'" --Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

 Ah yes, that lovely city has indeed earned a mention in the works of Victorian literature.

(for those of you who missed the quote, you are now miles behind.  Watch the BBC version of Wives and Daughters (5 hours) and then return.)

This past weekend, I visited Metz, a very beautiful city in the region, of which I had only previously seen the train station.

 The cathedral is HUGE!  It looks taller than any cathedral I've ever seen.

 The Cathedral in Metz is also famous for its Chagall windows in the front of the church.  Very cool.  The organ was very impressive as well.

After lunch in Place St. Louis, we walked through the the Place and stumbled across a Carousel that had children's book characters on it - mostly the fables of Jean de la Fountaine.

 Here is the fable I memorized for a children's literature class in College:

The Country Mouse and City Mouse ~

 We walked along the river and enjoy some pastries that were purchased by one of the girls.  It was a delightful afternoon.  Then we went to the Musee Cour d'Or, which is filled with art and artifacts from Roman times to Renaissance.  Then, we got lost in the museum and had to find our way out!

 See! Isn't Metz cute!  I wish I lived there.

 This is the German Gate.  Metz was part of Germany for a while, so there is a lot of German influence in the architecture. 

--Mary