FEUILLES FRANÇAISES EPISODE V ~ November 23, 2009
Dear Friends,
It is a miserable, cold, drizzly day in Bourges, in other words, a perfect day for blogging! These last two weeks have been filled with adventures of a different kind, more of a preview of my life to come… classroom adventures! Since the last episode, I have only taken one trip, I returned to Orléans for an immigration meeting. Orléans is the capital of my region, so all the immigration business has to go through them. I now feel a greater kinship with my ancestors who passed through Ellis Island, I know that several of my ancestors on mom’s side did pass through Ellis Island, and at least two of those families underwent some name changes, which is how they went from a long complicated Hungarian name to simply Czok. I myself have even undergone a name change of sorts, at home I am MON-ih-kuh, but over here it sounds more like moe-NEE-ka. And the last name “Squires” does not exist in French, so more often than not I am “Mlle Skeers.” But I digress.
Immigration, I have decided, is not something I want to make a habit of. I am still confused about the process, despite having gone through it, but I will try to explain. Before coming to France, I required a visa, in order to obtain the visa, I essentially needed an invitation to the country, which came in the form of my appointment document, the letter informing me that I had a job in France. So, the visa, was a form of RSVP, where I declared my intention to enter the country, and they in turn gave me formal permission to do so, and to work in the meantime. However, apparently the visa only gave me the right to come and work, but not the right to stay, and most importantly, a visa is a one-time deal, if you leave the country under this particular visa (which carries a stipulation requiring me to obtain a Titre de Sejour), you do not have the right to re-enter France, which would cause some problems since I have international travel plans for Christmas, and again in February.
The Titre de Sejour, as far as I can tell, is the French equivalent of my Green Card, it gives me permission to live in France, and leave and re-enter the country at will. So, my mission in Orléans was to obtain my “Green Card.” In order to get the green card, I had to pass a medical visit and an administrative interview/check (sounds a lot like Ellis Island, without the teeming masses). First came the medical visit, where the nurse took my vitals, and the radiologist put me in a scary closet and took an x-ray of my chest (looking for TB, I guess), and then I had to go over my medical history with the doctor. Overall, the visit was very easy, I was surprised at how often they just took my word for things. “Do you have this immunization?” “Yes, pretty sure I do.” “Ok, we’ll mark down ‘yes.’ NEXT!”
My "green card," which is, in reality, a yellow sticker in my Passport...
However, the administrative part was rather difficult, because if you do not have exactly the right papers in the right order, you will not get your green card, and you have to go back in six weeks and try again, which means, in the meantime, you are allowed to leave France, but you’re not allowed back in, this can be problematic if you already have travel plans and tickets. You need your employment contract, your visa, the medical visit forms, and official documentation of a permanent domicile in France (this was problematic for me, because I do not have an official lease, nor an electric bill in my name). I was, of course, missing some documents (as were 90% of the non-EU assistants there, if you come from the EU, like Gina and Viola, you get to skip this whole process), but luckily, Marie-Paule was able to fax them to the Immigration office, and after quite an ordeal, I officially have a “Green Card!” But, immigration is not fun, of course the administrative part is terrible, because they get angry when you don’t understand, and if you are missing documents, and they generally are not very happy people, so quite literally, I took my green card and ran, very happy to have escaped in one piece.
Collège Littré
Collège Littré Entrance
Collège Littré Entrance
Learning names is proving to be very difficult, it is hard enough in the states with students with names I am familiar with like Katie, Jeff, Mike, Amanda, and Laura, but here their names are all, of course, French. And with 400 students, there are a lot of duplicates, which actually makes it harder, so for one name, I have to memorize six faces. For example, I have eight girls named Manon, three of them are in the same group, I have eight iterations of Pierre (sometimes combined with a second name after a hyphen). And then there are names I have never even heard of before, like Lala and Cyprien and Flavy. And then there is the student who decided not to give me his proper name (I was not given class lists, so I was required to make my own, and so I had the kids write their name on a piece of paper under their group name). There is a scene in the Anne of Green Gables/Anne of Avonlea movies where Anne begins teaching at a very snooty private school, and on her first day, while taking attendance, no students claim themselves as present. Anne thinks she has the wrong list, and asks the students to give their names, and they do, names such as Wilma I. Ball, Alice B. Heind, Myrtle N. Girdle, and Fanny I. Oppener. This child gave me a rather inappropriate word as his surname, which I used a couple of times, I assumed the class’ giggling was as a result of my pronunciation. Note to self: learn all the swear words and inappropriate slang for a country/region, before you begin teaching there.
Collège Jean Renoir
Again
As you can see, there are as many student problems in French schools as in American ones. I thought originally, that the students were more disciplined. For example, they do not enter a classroom until invited to do so by the teacher, and then stand beside their seats until given permission to sit. I do not like this particular method, it makes me feel like a dictator. Teachers tend to be more… harsh. I have heard teachers out and out yelling at classes on several occasions. Students are not allowed to leave class to get a drink or to go to the bathroom, no one ever asks, it is simply not permitted. All students carry around a little notebook, which is an assignment book, their permission to leave the building, their attendance, and a disciplinary record. If a student does not have their book, they get in big trouble, and if a student misbehaves, the teacher may ask for the book, write the nature of the problem, and it goes home and needs to be signed by the parent. So my first impression was of well-disciplined students, and then I was left alone with classes.
Turns out, French pupils are just like American pupils, they talk, they pass notes, they write rude words on the desks, they say inappropriate things, if you leave the classroom for a moment they draw rude things on the white board, they hit each other with rulers, and try texting under the desk (despite the fact that it is literally ILLEGAL for students to have cell phones in school). So if you think classroom management is hard, try doing it in another language when you are upset and cannot find the words you need, or are confusing tenses. The bright side is, after this, managing a classroom back home in English seems like it will be a cakewalk.
There are also the varying degrees of studiousness. I have several “Hermione Granger” types, who don’t like to give anyone else in the class a chance to talk and literally bounce up and down in their seats raising their hands. I have had several after class chats consisting of, “I know you know the answer, and the whole class knows you know the answer, but you have to give someone else a chance, otherwise, the rest will never get to be as good at English as you are.” I also have the students who know all the answers, and who speak very well, but who just choose never to talk. There is usually a class clown, but they come in two varieties, those that are very advanced, and probably crack jokes out of boredom, and those that couldn’t care less about English class, and are just looking to derail the teacher and pass the time. And then, no class would be complete without the students who stare blankly at the wall and don’t even bring a pen to class. I had sincerely hoped that this was an American phenomenon, sadly, it is not. In every class I have a Hermione, and Silent Sage, a Clown, and a Wall-Starer, give or take. The rest of the students vary in terms of ability, and are very timid about speaking.
I have tried to establish a few simple rules:
1. No one has the right to mock anyone for trying to speak in English. If you mock someone, you leave.
2. Everyone talks.
3. Everyone in this classroom deserves your respect, do not talk while another person it talking.
It goes well most of the time. I have had to split up some chatty friends, which of course, did not make me very popular. So far I have only sent one student off to visit “Vie Scolaire” and he was the whiteboard artist. And then all classroom management aside, there is still teaching to be done.
The general rule is, use French only when absolutely necessary to explain something. It is a last resort. And so, to teach a language, you must have no self-respect, self-restraint, or shame. It is amazing how many memories of language classes and teachers have come flooding back to me in the past few weeks. Sometimes I thought my French teachers were insane, and now I am sure my kids think the same about me. I have climbed on top of a desk to illustrate the meaning of “climb” (I was pretty sure the kids were going to faint here, I guess teachers do not climb on desks here) made grotesque faces to try to solicit the word “gargoyle,” faked swimming in mid-air, laughed uproariously to teach the word “laugher,” mimed tripping to illustrate that the word “to trip,” though illogical, does not mean to travel (in French a trip is a “voyage” and the verb “voyager” means to travel, so if English were logical, “to trip” would mean to travel, but of course it doesn’t).
370 mini pies, that is a lot of baking... Special Thanks to James, the Aussie for the help!
The last cycle (I see all of my students once every two weeks) was spent talking about what we did on our respective vacations. This cycle (currently my teaching cycles are in synch with blog cycles) we are talking about Thanksgiving. This weekend, I spent all day Saturday and all day Sunday baking 370 mini-pumpkin pies for my students to taste while I talk about Thanksgiving.
I find that I have to do a lot of differentiation between my classes. The levels of my classes are very, very mixed up. I have one class of fifth-years (seventh grade) who understand more than most of my third-years (freshmen). Some of my third- and fourth-year classes follow me very well when I speak, and others stare at me as though I am speaking ancient Greek. I have one group of sixth-years (sixth grade) who have only JUST begun to learn English, and so I have a hard time coming up with activities that I think they will be able to handle. Lucky for me, I pretty much expected this, I feel really badly for most of the assistants, who do not have any education training or experience. I am muddling through day by day, and it seems to be getting better. My students are getting more used to me and my way of doing things, and vice versa.
Here the school day is very different; school is in session from 8 AM until 5 PM, with an hour break for lunch. Wednesdays there is no school in the afternoon, and in some high schools, there are required Saturday classes. Most students go home or lunch, but there is a cafeteria, which I am yet to investigate. There are a number of “pauses” which account to 10-15 minute breaks between classes where kids can go outside and run around. It also seems that with parental permission, if students do not have class in the block before lunch, or for the last block of the day, they can go home early.
At Littre, most of my students walk to school, because it is in the center of town. At Jean Renoir, it seems that the majority of my students arrive on the city’s bus system. Class times are regulated by bells, like back home, but kids cannot leave a class until they are given permission, which does allow some teachers to keep them into the next period, which can be problematic, and the kids, like back home, are always late from gym.
We had no school on November 11 for Armistice Day (our Veterans Day). There was a parade and some speeches. It was interesting to think about the end of WWI from the European perspective.
A lot of kids have been out sick since vacation, apparently H1N1 is making the rounds. Loads of kids are absent, and the government has closed over 150 schools because of the flu. This is just a precaution, but I am taking my airborne and wearing a clove of garlic around my neck just to be safe.
Gina, James (squeezed in the back) and Adrien at the Wine & Cheese Party
Anne tasting some yummy cheeses, Julien (not her boyfriend, but a different one) too.
The Spread at the Wine & Cheese Party
In social news, I have joined a basketball team, kind of. I am practicing with a club team, but to join is expensive, and I would not be present for most of their Saturday games (because of course, I like to travel on the weekends). Also, in order to join a gym or a team, you have to have a full physical and a doctor’s note before you are allowed to play, which I thought was interesting. Recently there was also a wine and cheese tasting put on by the famous Adrien who organizes soirees and cultural events for the young folk here in Bourges. I definitely favor the softer northern cheeses, and the sweeter white wines of this region. It was a fun get-together, and we got to try all those scary looking cheese we see at the market without having to buy a whole slab.
Courtesy of Gina and Viola, I found a delightful little salon de thé (tea room), Cake Thé, housed in a fourteenth century wine cellar. It is very cute and cozy and offers just about every kind of tea under the sun, and if that’s not your thing, they have hot chocolate to rival Angelina’s in Paris, and a wide selection of pastries and cakes.
I went to see the second Twilight movie on Thursday, movies in France usually open on Wednesdays, so I got to see New Moon before anyone in the states, but, I had to watch it dubbed in French, you can only see the original versions of films in big cities. I don’t mind that it was in French, but dubbed movies bug me, when their mouths are out of synch with their voices, and not to mention, the voices are wrong! The characters just don’t sound right. Oh well.
With my two little private students, Bastian and Mathilde, we have been having fun. Bastian was studying physical descriptions in school, so we passed and afternoon playing Guess Who, which is called “Qui Est-Ce?” And for a bit of fun, last week, I sent them on an English scavenger hunt around the house, which worked out incredibly well, I wish I could do that with my school kids, but I think that would cause a little too much mayhem.
At Jean Renoir, I am also now responsible for an English Conversation Club on Tuesdays after school. This is a chance for eager students to have some supplementary time with me trying to improve their English faster. We had our first meeting, and it was great, sometimes in class it can be hard, because English is requires, and therefore you get the kids that want to be there mixed with the kids who don’t. But this club, which I am calling the Language League, is really great, because all the kids are there to learn. It is very nice to have enthusiastic students.
I did a ton of shopping on Friday, because I am preparing to throw (in conjunction with the other American, Anne) a huge Thanksgiving bash on Wednesday (because we are off in the afternoon) for all our new friends here in Bourges. I actually did manage to procure a turkey, which is no small feat. Here in France turkey is really only eaten at Christmas, so getting one a month early was rather tough. The best part is, it is a surprise, the guests think we are having chicken, because turkey was not available, but little do they know… Tracking down some typical Thanksgiving items was an adventure, for starters, pumpkin pie filling had to be imported from the USA (thanks to Mom, Dad, and Maria) as did pumpkin pie spice. I had to look all over creation for molasses (I eventually found it, not cheap, in an organic food store), and all the squashes here are ones I am not familiar with, but I did find an organic farmer selling butternut squash. I had to make my own Bells seasoning, and the spice merchant looked at me like I was a little strange, but when I explained he asked for the recipe. So wish me luck on Wednesday, this will be my first-ever attempt at roasting a large poultry, and cooking Thanksgiving dinner.
Speaking of shopping, here is a little cultural difference; you HAVE TO bring your own bags. In the US, we are trying to go green and encouraging people to bring their own recyclable shopping bags, in France, you have no choice. If you have no bag, you have to buy one, or try to carry your groceries without one. And you have to bag all your own stuff, so if the eggs get broken, you have no one to blame. This was never difficult before, because I never bought much, but doing the Thanksgiving shopping was a little tougher.
Crank window shutter
People actually use shutters here, like they close them every night. I think this is very interesting, because in the US, more often than not, shutters are decorative, nailed to the sides of houses to look pretty, whereas here, we close them. And if you don’t have shutters, most people have a sort of crank external plastic blind that covers the window. I am not sure if this is about heating, or protection, but it’s what they do here.
The back yard with our naked Maple Tree
The weather has been fairly warm. We had a cold snap before break, but it barely got below freezing. Today it is cold and rainy, which is how I expect much of the winter to be. I was surprised to find that here, the leaves change color just like at home, but they have mostly fallen now. I think that raking is in Marie-Paule’s and my future.
That’s about all I have for this issue. This week, I have my Thanksgiving feast; look for photos next time, and another trip to Paris. In the mean time, Happy Thanksgiving everyone, enjoy the holiday, and I will be back in two weeks with more adventure in la belle France.
Until then, I remain your favorite English teacher on the other side of the Atlantic,
~Monica
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