Episode III

FEUILLES FRANÇAISES EPISODE III ~ October 21, 2009

Dear Friends,

Hard to believe that another two weeks have gone by and it is time to write another entry. I've been here for an entire month, how quickly the time flies. Now, as mentioned in the previous episode, this adventure is different from my sojourn in Paris in 2006. Paris was even more extraordinary thanks to the students strikes. For me, most of the last two weeks were spent either at, or preparing for school.

Language assistants are in very high demand here in France, but there are not enough of us to go around, so I am being shared between two schools. One, Littre, is right in the center of Bourges, the other, Jean Renoir, is a bit of a haul, so I take the bus out to school. I am at Littre on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursday afternoons, and every other Friday. I am at Jean Renoir every Tuesday and every Thursday morning.

When I work with students, I work with 10-15 at a time. Teachers keep half their class, and send the other half to me, and then we swap after thirty minutes (usually, in some cases I take half the class for the whole hour, and then the other class the next week). I have 14 groups of third years (which translates to the equivalent of High School Freshmen), eight groups of fourth years (essentially eighth grade), ten groups of fifth years (seventh graders), and two groups of sixth years (sixth graders), so all in all, 34 groups of students which translates to just over 400 kids. Littre works on a bi-weekly schedule, so I have a different schedule in Week 1 than I do in Week 2, which gets complicated considering my schedule never changes at Jean Renoir. However, at Littre, I will have the same students at the same times all year, whereas I will get new classes in January at Jean Renior. This probably sounds very confusing, because it really is.

In order to stay sane, and try to keep my groups straight, I am naming them. They are all named for National Parks. At Littre, the groups are named for Natural parks, so far Grand Canyon, Natural Bridges, Sequoia, Cape Cod, Badlands, Niagra Falls, Monument Valley, and Everglades are taken. For Jean Renoir, all my groups are named for Historical Parks: Minute Man, Independence, and Rushmore have been claimed. I am allowing students to vote for their name. I figure if nothing else, it is a way to keep me sane, and inject a little more American Culture into my lessons, and of course, being a Park Ranger, I do get to put in a little plug for the NPS.

I have not really gotten into much teaching yet, because the first couple of weeks I stayed with the regular teachers and introduced myself and sort of had a question and answer session, where the students could ask anything about me. They were particularly interested in my opinions of the President, and many were shocked to hear that I have shaken his hand. They were very interested in my dog back home. And the girls in particular were very interested in my love life. Of course, I remember being in school and puzzling endlessly about teachers' personal lives. It is very difficult to remember to speak very slowly, and to choose my vocabulary wisely, because if the students don't understand a word, I either need to be able to explain it with gestures, pictures, or descriptions, or else come up with the French equivalent.

This week I have started to take the classes on my own, which does present some interesting problems. Firstly, I am really not supposed to speak French. But this is very problematic when it comes to classroom management. I am having the typical young new teacher problem. The kids are enjoying testing my boundaries and trying to find the right buttons to push. And for the record, French middle schoolers love those pick a number paper fortune tellers as much as American middle schoolers. They also like to pass notes, and whack each other with rulers. Some things just seem to exist on a genetic level and pay no heed to cultural differences (my friends in the biological sciences, I would very much like it if you can isolate this gene and eliminate it from humankind). The trouble with classroom management is, to discipline the class, and be UNDERSTOOD, I have to speak in French, the trouble is, my French is not perfect, and some of the students find it comical when I make mistakes, which makes discipline and maintaining order more troublesome. Did you ever, as a kid, get your father so mad that he was reduced to spluttering incoherently? I think that is how I must seem to the students when I am trying to get the chatting, or ruler dueling to cease. I am hoping this is all just the “oooooooo new teacher” game that I remember playing in school, and I hope after a couple weeks things will settle down and we will be able to get some work done.

I also have tried to use my difficulties with language to illustrate the point that speaking and learning other languages is rough. Every day I get up and I speak French. I know very well that speaking another language is really difficult, for me is it is a challenge every day, it literally makes my brain hurt some days. And on some levels, it is terrifying, I never realized how much confidence it takes to speak in a second language until I first went abroad. Every time you open your mouth, you are doing so knowing that you are going to make mistakes, and you never know how the people you are speaking to are going to react to that. Sometimes you feel like you sound completely stupid, and that is so difficult. I hope seeing that I have trouble with French, but keep trying will help my students to see that it is ok to make mistakes, and learn from them. For the moment, the majority of my kids are keeping quiet in class, I think they are still getting used to me, and getting comfortable with me, so I expect this will take some time.

I had always read and been told that the French start studying languages much early in school than Americans, but I am quickly discovering that is not the case in Bourges. The elementary schools occasionally have language assistants, but it seems to be extremely basic. So for my sixth years, it is their first official year studying English, which makes my job rather tough. I am not supposed to teach grammar (not that I could were I permitted), and I am really not supposed to speak French in order to be understood. So dealing with the sixth years is a real challenge. Generally, my fifth years are a little better in terms of comprehension. My third years are the students I am most excited about, because they are at the level of really being able to create with the language, and we can have some real conversations. But again, all this takes time, so for the moment, things are rather frustrating.

I never really expected this to be easy, but I didn't anticipate it being this hard either. In one instance, I have one of my colleagues telling me that I speak English incorrectly. The student text book teaches the phrase, “I have got two sisters.” Does anyone ever even say that in spoken English? I asked two Brits and an Aussie, and neither of them say it that way either, they say, “I have two sisters.” And so we have a definite conflict between text-book English, and practical English. I have decided that there are really two ways to go about using a language, you can learn a language with the goal of becoming a translator, which is to say, you need to be perfect, technically speaking. Or you can learn the language for practical use.

When I began learning French, I began learning it on a much more practical level, I started learning very young, and the grammar and writing came later, it was much like learning a native tongue, babies learn to speak first, and then learn things like grammar and spelling. The initial focus for teaching babies is vocabulary. However, in schools, more often we are told we need to learn a language before we are allowed to speak it, which I think is fundamentally wrong. But I am not going to turn this into a pedagogical rant on language acquisition.

Bastian waiting for chocolate chip cookies (yes, that was a language lesson) :o)

Mathilde, who is adorable

In France, younger students do not go to school on Wednesday afternoons, so I am tutoring two local kids. They were born in Texas to French citizens living in the states for work. They came back here six years ago, and when they left the US, both the kids, Bastian 10, and Mathilde 8 were speaking only English, but in the last six years, they have lost a lot of the language, so I go to their house and work with them (it is more like playing than working) in English. I am having a lot of fun with them, today, for instance, we baked chocolate chip cookies, but of course, we were only allowed to speak in English, which was fun. They are delightful, and I am really having a blast with them. (I am sorry that I have no photos of school or teaching, but it is against the law to take and post pictures of students without parental permission here, just like in the states)

Victor, of Mexico

Anne, from Wisconsin, she is a Badger, but since we are strangers alone in a foreign country, we'll allow a temporary alliance between a Black Bear and an Badger.


James, that crazy Bruce from Down Under

When I am not in school, and not tutoring the Brels, I spend time with the other assistants. There is a small colony of us here in Bourges: Anne is from Wisconsin, Gina is from London, England, Victor is from Mexico, Loreto is from Chile, and Viola is from Germany. Since there is not a huge support system in place for us here, we decided to create our own little club of assistants, and hold weekly meetings over dinner at someone's residence to talk about teaching and just to try to help each other through this difficult transition. There is nothing like moving abroad. Even though I have done it once already, culture shock still bites you in the butt every chance it gets. It is nice to have a group of people to go through it with. There is also an Aussie named James, who is not an assistant, but he is enjoying his “gap year” by traveling the world. Apparently for Australians, it is common to take a year off between High School and college and do some world traveling.

At the Cafe des Langues

Adrien, Gina, and Viola at the Cafe des Langues

There is also a decent population of young professionals here in Bourges, and we all meet on Friday nights in a pub called O'Brian's to hang out. These is also a “Café des Langues” where we can go and practice speaking in a language of our choosing, and that is a good time. It is nice to be part of these groups. The young French are particularly helpful because they know the ins and outs of the system, and are full of useful advice, Particularly one young man named Adrien, who is originally from Normandy, but he now lives and works in Bourges, he has really adopted all the assistants, and taken us under his wing and helped us with everything from housing, to paperwork, to meeting other people.

I do have some decent-sized pockets of free time here, the odd free afternoon, and weekends (I wish I could go traveling every weekend, but unfortunately, that is not practical). I thought I might try to volunteer at the cathedral (seeing as it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site), or the Palais Jacques Coeur, or one of the museums to do translations or even guided tours in English. This was how I came to find out that volunteering is illegal in France. Business, tourist attractions, etc are not legally allowed to have volunteers. And of course, my visa does not really allow me to have an additional job. Also, even if I could be hired, all guides have to be nationally certified in order to give sanctioned tours.

Could you resist a picpic with this view? I think not.

Julien, boyfriend of Anne, and kind host.

Last weekend I popped up to Paris with a couple of the other assistants for the weekend. I am not sure I will ever get over the novelty of just being able to go to Paris for the weekend. Its less than two hours away by train, so in the grand scheme of things, that is nothing. It takes longer than two hours to get to Boston back home if there is traffic. It was a fantastic weekend in the city dearest to my heart. We ended up staying with Anne's boyfriend, Julien, who is French. We commenced our weekend with a picnic of bread, cheese and wine on the Champs de Mars right next to the Eiffel Tower, if we'd had a beret amongst us, it would have been the most tourist-y thing in history, but it was perfect. Nothing like a proper welcome back to the city I love so much.

Monet's Waterlilies

Volia and Gina atop L'arc de Triumphe

On Saturday, I spent the day with Gina and Viola cruising around. We stopped at Angelina's for the best hot chocolate in the world, visited Monet's waterlilies in the Orangerie, walked the Champs Elysses, ate crepes, climbed l'Arc de Triumphe, visited les Halles, passed Pompidou, strolled Isle St. Louis, said a brief hello to Notre Dame, climbed Montmartre, listened to street performers, rode the Metro, and capped the evening off with dinner in the Latin Quarter, and another reunion and toast at the Tour Eiffel. I don't think I will ever tire of Paris, every time I go, it feels new and different, but at the same time, comfortable. Its been three years, but I scarcely had to look at the metro maps. I just knew where to go, and where everything was. It was like being back in Merrimack or Orono, I just know it so well. It just felt so wonderful to be back, UMaine was having their homecoming back home, and so I had my own in Paris. Interestingly enough, Viola knows Paris very well too, she was an au pair there in 2006, and it turns out that she and I were living just a few blocks away from each other, and never met. How crazy is that?

Oh the Louvre...

This might be my new favorite statue, its by Chaudet, and is of Phorbus finding the wounded baby Oedipus on the mountain side, I love the expression of compassion on Phorbus' face, and the dog licking the baby's feet.

Detail of Phorbus and Oedipus

This statue is one in a series, and is entitled: L'hiver (Winter). Incredibly fitting. Hard to believe that this began as a hunk of marble.

In Napoleon III's apartments, I just like taking photos from beneath chandeliers.

Not sure I am on board with Napoleon III's decorating style, it seems just slightly over the top... just a tad...

My personal all-access pass, with a terrible photo (they will not accept ID photos if you are smiling, so everyone's photo looks like a prison photo)

On Sunday morning, I got up early, and crept out of Julien's apartment, which had turned into a Youth Hostel, because when you have an apartment in Paris, everyone you know comes to stay on the weekend. I visited Notre Dame quickly before heading off to the Louvre to meet up with Viola (she and I, having school on Monday morning, needed to leave Paris early to get back to Bourges to prepare lessons, etc.). Oh the Louvre, I had almost forgotten how wonderful it is to just get lost in the largest museum in the world. And the best part is, being a teacher in France, I have what is called a “Carte Professionel” which grants me free access to EVERY museum and monument in all of France, which probably makes it the most useful thing ever. So Viola and I wandered the Louvre from the Egyptian collections, through the nineteenth century Greco-Roman revival sculptures to Napoleon III's apartments. I could spend an entire week in each wing of the Louvre. I love it there, I miss living just down the street from it.

Leaving Paris was extremely hard. Being away for three years made me forget how much I love the city. I love everything about it, from the way it smells (which is not always pleasant), to the noises, the bustle, and the pulse. I never feel lost in Paris, it really is a home away from home for me, and I never thought I would find that in one of the largest cities in the world. In 2001 I fell head-over-heels in love with Paris, and nine years later, that love endures. If I had a million dollars, my one frivolous purchase would be a small apartment there so I could go any time I want. For the moment, I must be satisfied with the odd weekend. It is terrible being so close, and not being able to be there all the time.

In the mean time, here in France we are gearing up for the Toussaint (All Saint's) holidays. November 1 is All Saint's Day (France being a predominantly catholic country, they get a week and a half off). The French also, sadly, skip Halloween entirely. So next week I am being joined by Maria, a fellow Park Ranger from back home, and we are going to be touring the South of France. I have covered much of the northern half in my travels, but the south has remained depressingly unvisited, until now. Next week I will add Nice, Marseille, Avignon, Aix-en-Provence, and Lyon to the list of cities I have visited in France. So less education babble and more adventure next issue, I promise.

The little gold rectangle is some kind of chip that is on all credit and bank cards here, not sure what it does, but apparently it is essential.

In other news, I FINALLY got my bank card. This has been a point of much stress, because here, a lot of the time, my bank cards and credit cards do not work, because they do not have the micro chip that cards over here do. So after three weeks of waiting, I now have a functioning bank card.

There still has been no official word on my social security, though my contract was nearly voided, and thus my visa due to a clerical error, so that was a bit fun. The French definitely like paperwork. Again, I am not a fan of the immigration process, there is a lot of waiting, a ton of questions, and very seldom are there answers.

Did you know that the price of baguette is regulated in France? A bakery is legally not allowed to charge more than 0.85€ for a baguette. I think that is very interesting, it is such an important part of their diet and culture that it is regulated by the government.

Also, in talking to my students, it seems that there are very few original French series on TV. Most of the television that the French watch (in terms of series) are American shows that have been dubbed, though they are usually a season behind over here. Apparently French shows just could not compete with the high-budget, high-talent shows we have in the US. I found this slightly disappointing, because I would have liked to start following a French sitcom, it bothers me to hear Dr. House speak in a voice that is not Hugh Laurie's, and for his words to be out of synch with his mouth.

I think I have gone on long enough for this edition of Feuilles. But I will be back in two weeks with more adventures to share. Until then, don't touch that dial!

I remain your linguistically challenged English Teacher,

~Monica