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

French Fries

Today, we ate french fries for lunch at the cantine.  Because we were eating fries, classes let out a little earlier than normal.  a cause des frites! (They literally gave each of us a huge plate of fries with either some chicken or a hot dog.

In all of my classes this week, I've been introducing myself to the students and then they get to ask me questions about myself.  I had one class today who got pretty creative.

Ok, I have a confession to make...I accidentally did something that is culturally unacceptable...

I said I didn't like Bob Marley.  The teacher told me that I will make the students cry.  Apparently, Bob Marley is the greatest thing since sliced bread over here.  Ah, cultural differences...

I really do like my students, though.  At least two classes told me I was beautiful...My estimation of their English abilities went up, naturally. 

Tomorrow is my day off (yay!).Mais, j'ai beaucoup de choses a faire...

Mary

Distractions

Hello World!

Did you ever notice how easy it is to get distracted?  Like, when I was trying to write on my novel five minutes ago and now I'm writing a blog post (punctuated by "valuable" research, such as, did you know there are 14 different nose types?  I think mine looks like Kate Middleton's.)

My class is also very easy to distract.  Today I had the small group (can someone please explain how so many crazy teenage boys ended up in my small group?).  It. was. crazy.  But fun!

Then, lunch at the cantine (I get to eat with the profs--yes!).  We had fried fish and some veggies (not bad for cafeteria food). I actually understood some of the chitchat

There is another American in town (a substitute teacher).  I was very happy to meet her.

Ah, c'est la vie!

Cheers!
--Mary

Trouble Times Twenty

SO!  I thought I was done for the day, but I guess not.

Let me preface this by saying that I really like all the kids here.  They are all little angels (devils might be a better word, according to one teacher) and they are all certainly very curious about me (but whether their class merits an audience with me is another matter).

So, apparently, the teachers at the school devised a plan to stick me with the better behaved kids, perhaps hoping that I wouldn't just up and quit.  As tempting as that may be, my eyes were certainly opened this afternoon, when one of the teachers, Mr. A, let me sit in on his cinquième class.  Somehow I missed the fact that classes are slightly different on Fridays and showed up a half an hour late to one of my observations with Mr. A.  That's when I volunteered to sit in with the "bad" class to make up for it.

I don't regret my decision at all.  After all the angels I had been witnessing throughout the week, it was a nice change to see some devils. Mr. A was very frustrated with the kids.  They all seemed to prefer each others company to that of the teacher. 


I know that these kids don't deserve to have me in their class because of their bad behavior, but I (dare I say it?) almost WANT to be in their class.  They are all very smart and energetic.  Mr. A told me he thinks they eat too much sugar.  They can easily repeat the lesson if they want to. The funny thing is, they don't exactly realize that they being bad.  They were terrified that their teacher was going to call their parents this evening. 

Perhaps the reason I enjoyed them was because every time the teacher's back was turned, they tried to ask me a question.  They even accused me of being Mr. A's wife (I tried so hard not to laugh out loud).  I still haven't told them my name (save to one class--they are the privileged few, I'm afraid).  Every time they pass me in the halls, they ask me.

Still waiting for my schedule...perhaps I shall get some devils after all.

Bon week-end!
--Mary

'It was a cold rainy day in October and the clocks were striking thirteen.'

Ok, not really.  I just have to make a joke about how they tell time in Europe.  The clock itself may strike once, but it's the thirteenth hour, and they insist on calling it that.

Anyway, back to the saga of my life. I had a really busy week.  On Monday, I got to meet some of the kids at my other school (of which, I have already told the tale).  Their English isn't that good.  Maybe they were just nervous.  I guess I'm here to help them!

(side note): My roomate and I always have a blast comparing languages (and practicing, of course).  On Monday, I pulled out a textbook of expressions and we compared them.  Then she taught me this French tongue twister:

Un chasseur sachant chasser sans son chien est un bon chasseur.
And
Les chaussettes de l'archiduchesse sont-elles sèches, archi-sèches?

Try saying those five times fast :)
 
On Tuesday, I had a blast.  I caught the earliest train to Nancy and had to sit through an all-day conference.  the fun part was meeting the other assistants and SPEAKING ENGLISH.  A wave of relief washed over my brain as I communicated in my native tongue...

Ok, maybe not quite like that.

For lunch, they herded all 90 of us to a restaurant down the road where we ate a full course French dinner.

THE MENU (for those interested parties):
- Quiche Lorraine served with a small salad (with dressing) - by small, I mean, one leaf of lettuce
- Poultry thing (we were pretty sure there were two kinds of meat.  duck and chicken, perhaps?), potatoes au gratin, and a broiled tomato
- a small piece of brie with the same salad as before
- Pineapple torte thing with coffee (in a thimble sized cup)
All served with bread and water

Afterwards, we had the second half of a long conference.  I did learn a lot about teaching and what we are expected to do (the next problem is, how do I implement it?). 

Then I took the long train ride home.  I found one assistant who lives nearby, so we rode the train together until I had to make a change.  Then, to my surprise, three other assistants accompanied me back home.  It feels good to have other assistants in town (THAT NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT)

This isn't a rant, but I feel I need to express a certain sentiment.  Nobody ever feels the need to tell me anything, even when I ask questions.  It's like an "ignorance is bliss"mentality. They simply do not want to burden me with 'unnecessary' details about my life that are extremely important.

Like the rent I am supposed to pay (although, I'm not mad about this one).  They were just so happy to meet me, that they clean forgot about it.  (lol, it was hysterical.  I thought the apartment was free!).

Anyway, I found out on Wednesday that they don't have school on Wednesdays (I think).  I woke up late because I'd had a long day on Tuesday, and there was no one around.  It didn't phase me, I went for a long walk and figured out that they forgot to tell me that little detail.

Yesterday, I observed a couple of classes.  I'm nervous and excited, and I don't know what to think.  One more class today, and then the weekend.

Bon week-end!
--Mary

Mes éleves

Yeah, I knew things would pick up once I met the kids.

Today I was busy figuring out my schedule with one school that I am teaching at.  When they called a meeting with the teachers, I thought it was more businesslike than it actually turned out to be.  We met at the school and then went over to a cafe for a drink.  We didn't talk business until the very end.  It was all kittens and pets, living conditions, the weather, etc.  So very different from the American way.  I guess we like to have business settled before fun.

At least I came out of the meeting (yeah, to us MEETING means business, right?) with my schedule.  Then, I went straight to my other school to meet the English teachers.  They were all so very nice and pleasant.  First, the Gestionnaire helped me to find the prefect (?!?!?), who was absolutely charming.  Very typical French.  He complimented me on my french, first while we were walking when I told him I'd only been speaking for a couple of years, and then in front of everyone we met.  He told me I was very charming.

I then got to meet all the English teachers and participate in their classrooms.  They had me introduce myself and the kids asked me questions.  They are a noisy bunch, but I think we will get on splendidly. I write more on the french classroom some other time.  For now, YAWN, I have to go to sleep...

Mary

Deja Vu all over again...

Dear friends, perhaps you remember the adventures of Mary and Laura when we were in England.  There was one particular adventure involving a town called Leamington Spa and the English train system, which we vowed would never happen again.

Well, on Friday, it happened.  I was on my way to visit Laura and I wasn't exactly sure how the trains worked and everything.  I got on the correct train in Verdun (I didn't have much of a choice), but then, noting that my train was headed towards Nancy via Conflans Jarny, made the executive decision to get off in Conflans Jarny because it looked like a place where connections could be made.

Ok. I don't know where I went wrong.  I DID ask the man at the ticket booth for a ticket from Verdun to Nancy by way of Metz (and he asked me again later for triple confirmation). So while my ticket said "via Conflans" what it actually meant was "you are going to see the little station of Conflans flying past your window on your way to Metz (there are, by the way, no direct trains to Nancy)."

Going back to the Leamington Spa episode.  AT LEAST THERE WE COULD CATCH A TRAIN EVERY FIVE MINUTES.  Alas, Jarny is one of those places which trains avoid.  Realizing my mistake, I went to the ticket window (after watching my train pull away) and asked the man when the next train to Nancy was. I was told I had to wait about 1-2 hours to catch a bus that was going there.  Great. I must have looked very disappointed, because he asked me if there was something else I wanted.  He realized that I was an American and asked if there was anything else I wanted.  I just asked him to repeat the time (so great was my shock!).  What I really wanted to ask was "can I cry on your shoulder right now?"

So, I explored Jarny.  For you folks out there planning your European vacations, you can definitely skip Jarny.  It is a very typical, quiet place.  Perhaps there is more to it than I saw, but it is still not very interesting.

When I was walking back to the bus station early, I saw a bus parked outside.  I went up to it and found out that it was headed for Metz.  I hopped aboard (forget a direct anything to Nancy!) and then found myself deposited at the train station in Metz, where I took a train to Nancy after a half hour or so.

On the way home, I made sure that I didn't get off in Conflans Jarny.  Sure, I can laugh about it now, but it certainly wasn't funny at the time.

Now I have many things to do,
-Mary