La semaine du gout

La semaine du gout is a week in France where there is a strong focus on food, taste, flavors, etc.  At our school we had a menu contest, a vegetable sculpture contest, drawing contest, a "blind test" and the last day before the vacation of Toussant, we had a touch and smell activity in English class.  I spent two weeks teaching my students about the food pyramid and the food groups in the US.  We all learned a few things and added a few more lines to the "wall of differences" that I have in the classroom.  For example...

• Nuts are considered fruits in France.
• The "feculants" group (our grain/pasta group) also includes all starches in France, like corn, potatoes, etc.
• While I consider the tomato to be the only fruit/vegetable, the kids informed me of several other chameleon foods, like the avocado.
• Some vegetables have never made it big in the US, like leeks, and I doubt they ever will...

 I printed off about 10 different worksheets from the national pyramid guidelines.  Each food group page, designed for kids, had the foods listed in the center and the object was to match the word to a happy little dancing food around the edge of the paper.  The French kids dutifully got out their rulers and fountain pens to match the two, but were quite thrown off by the drawings.  I'll admit, it was hard to distinguish a smiling pear from a dancing apple :)  The most "entertaining" moment of the past two weeks of food?  A student asked me when we were going to go back to learning English.

I asked Dan to come to school at the end of the second week to help me carve pumpkins after the "concours" to see who could have the best pumpkin design in each of my four youngest classes.  The kids had a great time pulling the "guts" out of the pumpkins.  For many of them, it was a first.  Halloween is sort of celebrated in France.  A few of my students had carved pumpkins before, sometimes annually, but they were all impressed by my pumpkin carving skill.  I do have more experience than they do!  I toasted the seeds (okay, Dan toasted them!) and brought them in for the students who insisted on peeling them to eat them, even though I repeatedly showed them that you can pop the seeds straight into your mouth.  (I also took some seeds to my art class, which provided great entertainment as the women there gingerly tasted seed after seed.)

So, even though I supposedly didn't "teach any English" over the past two weeks, I'm pretty sure the kids learned a thing or two!!

Réunions parents-profs

Sounds scary, doesn't it?  The parent-teacher conferences kind of snuck up on me, because there wasn't really much talk about them.  All of a sudden I was kind of like "wait, don't we have conferences tonight?"
My first night, Tuesday, was only for the parents of students in 4e and 3e.  I teach 3e FIBRE and an "option" class for 3e and also 4e.  I didn't expect too many parents.  I had about 2/3 of my FIBRE class show up.  The parents (and often the students) wait outside your door until you are available.  At times, I had a little line waiting to see me, but it was a pretty calm night.  When the student came in with his/her parent, I asked the student how English class was going, if they understood, what I might encourage them to work on, etc.  It was very helpful to have the student present because I didn't have to worry about a conversation at home where the parent would say... "your English teacher said..." and the student would innocently look back at their parent saying "I have no idea why she would say that..."  Honestly, I enjoyed myself.  I was home by 7:15.

Two days later was the big night.  Conferences started at 5:00, a few minutes after classes ended.  I had tried to organize time slots for the parents of "my class" but received shocked and confused looks when I handed out little call slips for the students to take home.  They patiently explained to me that their parents were used to showing up and just waiting their turn outside the classroom.  "This could certainly be handled in a more logical fashion," I thought to myself, "but when in Rome..er, Quiberon..."  So, for three and half hours straight I had a line of curious parents and anxious students outside of my door.  I think I saw at least 50 parents, of my 60 students who could have come.  They were almost all very supportive and kind, and told me how lucky their child was to have a native speaker.  (I know the students and parents in HI feel the same way).  I joked with my students who were present about how I don't always do things comme il faut and that the learning goes in both directions. 
The most frequent problem that I have in class?  BAVARDAGE.  These students are physically incapable of keeping quiet.  I thought my 7th and 8th graders in HI were talkative, but these kids really can't stop themselves.  It's so second nature that when I yell at them for talking, they innocently look at me and say "Mais, j'ai rien dit, Madame."  And the scariest part?  I think they really believe that they weren't talking! 
Anyway, I was exhausted after the three and half hour continuous flow of parents, but I felt good.  I know most of them just wanted to check me out, to lay eyes on the American, but it was a very positive experience for me.  Now that I know I have allies, I wonder if their dear little children will behave any better...?!?

Moi? Ca va, mais Nausicaa ca va pas.

So our kitty for the year, Nausicaa came home the other night limping.  She looked so sad and well, a little pathetic. We babied her and picked her up and put her on the ground or couch and we brought her food to her.  But after a day she was still "ca va pas".  She was even drooling four liters a minute (that's one gallon for you Americans)!  So I asked Sophie what to do and we decided to take her to the vet.  So on Wednesday after Erin's art class I went over and told the neighbors the problem.  Why did I go?  Because Erin said I had to.  It was one of those moments when we weren't seeing eye-to-eye on how things worked.  So I went over and tried to explain that her paw was hurt.  The neighbor came over and Erin and her went to the vet.  Long story short, she fractured her poor paw.

The vet, who is the husband of a lady I play badminton with, was very nice and gave us some drugs and said it would heal in a few days.  But poor kitty still had a hurt paw.  But it's getting better.  But it was an adventure.  She's still holding her little "patte" (paw) up when she sits sometimes, but that's probably habit more than anything.

While she was still healing, she was supposed to stay inside.  She did not like that.  She was so anxious. We moved her litter box to block the kitty door and for 2 days we checked it... but nothing. Then on the 2nd day she was being really weird.  She followed me into the bathroom while I shaved and BAM - she did her business.  Yes, gross.  But at least it was in the shower and easy to clean.  So we promptly moved her litter box to her desired location.  To get out of the house we had to take advantage of her two weaknesses: her paw and her hunger.  Erin would leave quickly and as Nausicaa chased her I'd go over to the area where her food is, she'd come slowly over and then I'd run for the door before she could slowly make her way back across the house.  I know it was mean, but it was the only way for us to get out and keep her in.  Poor kitty, being teased while she's hurt.

Owl....comme "Hoot Hoot"

So in France, normally you drop your kid off and pick them up at the gate.  No one but teachers and kids go in the school (ok, thats a little bit of an exaggeration, but it's more closed off than schools in the US).  But from day one, Erin's principal made it clear that we are the exception.  That I was allowed anytime and that it would be a welcome change for me to visit the school.  Problem was I just didn't really know what that meant.  So on Fridays the school runs a restaurant and I went to that - once.  Other than that - nothing.  But then Halloween came and Erin had a contest for the best drawing of a carved pumpkin.  She would then carve the winners from each grade during recess. When the time came though she realized she needed my help since having 50 kids in the library with knives and her having to carve 4 pumpkins might get a little crazy!



So I headed to the school and was greeted by a swarm of kids in the courtyard.  I opened the gate and put on my best brave face and walked - fearful that at any moment one of these (admittedly adorable) kids would speak to me!  What would I do then?  Bolt for the car?  Then as I got to the doors for the school I saw they were blocked by kids lining up to go back in.  Were the doors locked?  Surely if I tried to open the doors and they were locked the kids would start talking to me.  Panic set in and my life flashed before me eyes, but then a bright light blinded me and I saw an angel opening the door - a miracle saved me....well actually it was just Erin opening the door and wondering why I was late, but it was a miracle in my eyes!

We went to the library to get things set up and then she let the kids in and I can honestly say I've never been more impressed with Erin.  Sure I knew she could speak French.  But speaking French to 20 different people and managing the chaos was quite impressive.  In any given minute she had 20 different kids from all over the library asking her questions and demanding her time.  All of this of course in wicked fast french (which since we're talking about little kids I assume was not the most proper french).

So there I am, the mute tall guy, helping the kids separate the seeds from the rest of the insides of the pumpkin. What do I say when they ask me why we're separating them?  Oh because I'll cook them and you can eat them.  What do I say when they ask if they can use the knife and cut?  "No, you can't, Madame Cleveland said I have to taste it." (In my bad french)  "You're going to taste it?" They say while giggling.  Then the sweetest girl in the world (when Erin talks about her from now on that's how she refers to that girl so I know who she's talking about) politely tells me I meant "cut" it (gouter vs. couper).

But the kids had fun (I think).  And so did I.  So I start to clean up and Erin asks me to stay for the next class so she can finish carving while I play bingo with the kids.  So the kids come and some of them ask me if I know some songs or what some words from songs mean (how am I supposed to explain the meaning of "to shuffle on" in french?!).  We finally started playing bingo - basically I called out halloween words and then they marked it on their board.  We have fun with it - when I say something half the class goes "what'd he say?!?!?" and the other half translates it.  Unlike a true teacher, I quickly picked my favorites.  One of my favorites didn't understand when I said "owl" so I hooted for them and they loved it!  I also learned which kids like which phrases in English (there's "slow down" boy, "hush" girl, etc.).

All in all it was a lot of fun.  I was hoping to head in the next day for another halloween day but I was too busy preparing for our vacation.  But with Thanksgiving coming up I'm sure I'll be able to go in again.

la grève des trousses

Following the example of their teachers, some of my 5e students also decided to go on grève.  They told me it was the "grève des trousses" and that they would not use their trousses that day.  A trousse is a pencil case that is super important to French students.  In it they have their assorted pen colors, ink refills for their plume pens, a compass, erasers, and most importantly, a ruler.  Yes, a ruler is very important.  Why, you might ask?  Well, because no French student would ever dare make a line that wasn't straight.  In any case, although the students on this particular day thought they would be pulling one over on me, I got the last laugh when they begrudgingly got out their pens and rulers to copy down their notes.  Heaven forbid they draw a line that wasn't straight...They just couldn't help themselves.    Grève fail.

Paris and being Faux Papa

There was a reunion in Paris for all of the Fulbright teachers and also a mandatory medical visit for them and anyone staying for the year over 18.  Of course this also meant that most of the children came with their mom (since none of the fathers came to France).  This meant that while the teachers were busy with programs for the exchange, I became the faux papa to two 8 year old boys, a 12 year old boy, and a 13 year old boy.  As Erin often has to remind me, I had to be the adult which meant no instigating allowed!  I just was praying the moms had come up with some kid friendly events in Paris.

We hopped on the train and arrived in Paris a day early so I could at least meet my new kids before I had to be responsible for them.  But instead, after checking in at the hotel, we went "tout de suite" to the exact opposite of the city (an hour by 3 different metro lines!) to meet Erin's friend from one of her previous exchanges.  We ended up having a great evening watching a band, drinking some wine, and then biking through the streets of Paris in the dark (as cheesy as it sounds, I loved the biking part - I felt like I was a true frenchmen).  We shared some couscous and then went back to our friends' apartment for a digestif (after dinner drink).  Erin had some berry moonshine from the Czech Republic (or something) and I sipped a whiskey and we shared some nougat.

The next morning Erin woke up feeling horrible (berry moonshine from Czech - what could be wrong with that?!) but we got up and did a day touring Paris with the other teachers and kids.  Half way through the day Erin was still in pain and needed me to take her home.  We tried to get her some headache medicine but the pharmacies were all closed (it was Sunday after all!).  I listened closely and found the next english speaking group (two women) and asked if they spoke English (in French I asked, even though I had stalked them for about 5 minutes to make sure they were English speakers) and they said yes and I explained that Erin was having a killer headache and I asked if they had anything (knowing no was probably the answer).  As it turns out the one lady was a nurse and she had two different pills - basically Advil and Excedrin.  She gave Erin the stronger pill and after we got lunch Erin was doing better.  If that random lady is reading this and she remembers giving pills to random strangers on the street in Paris (sounds bad when I put it like that!) - THANK YOU!

The teachers then left me with the kids while they did a quick check-in (although there was a misunderstanding and it turned out it was a formal meeting that they missed half of, but that's for Erin to explain).  I had the kids for probably a total of 1.5hrs and I was paniced by the end!  The moms thought it would be fun for us to hangout at the Eiffel Tour - sounds good in theory right?  A nice park and tons of grass.  Oh and thousands of aggressive souvenir vendors, tens of thousands of people (I guess its a popular monument to visit?), and oh yes, just to add to the fun, 5 weddings photos!  So I was constantly running after the kids.  The one was playing with a bottle of water, just throwing it up in the air....and then losing control of it and almost severely hurting a innocent bystander!  To their credit, when we were in the middle of the worst of the crowds, I asked them to forgive me but to hold my hand and they readily did.  The next few days should be interesting!

The kids went back with their moms and the rest of us met up with the partner of one of the french teachers that we had met in DC, and also his cousin.  They took us to a nice place for dinner and we just had a great time talking with them and walking around Paris.

The next day I met the 18 year old daughter and her friend of one of the teachers.  So I was not alone in watching the kids.  We headed off to the Louvre, with the main mission being "to see the Mona Lisa".  We got to the line to and we waited patiently....well some of us did, the younger ones ran around while they still could.  We got our tickets and headed into the main museum section and walked passed rows and rows of statues - or as one of the boys called them "millions of naked men and women".  We slowly made our way towards the Mona Lisa, stopping for rests along the way - did anyone ever think to put a few metro stops inside the museum?  I suppose it might subtract a little from the ambiance though.

So we were walking through hallway after hallway of priceless works of art.  In the US there would have been massive barriers to prevent anyone from touching them.  The french version is a thin metal bar about a foot off the ground - nothing else.  No joke.  I just about died.  I easily saw one of the kids running up to the painting, tripping on what was suppose to be a barrier and long story short, I'm locked away in a french prison never to be heard from again.  After our last stop, we spotted a sign for the Mona Lisa and make the turn.  Luckily, she was very well guarded - ropes, two workers, and glass around her.  I let out a slight sigh and that's when one of the kids ran off.  Luckily I grabbed him quickly and we headed out of Mona Lisa's room.

We decided it was time for lunch and since we were in the middle of the museum we kept going forward.  We eventually made it out and one of the boys exclaimed joyfully "no more naked dudes!"  I was equally happy about not being sent to a french jail.

We fed the boys a healthy lunch of crepe au nutella (hey, when in france...) and headed back to the hotel to wait for the teachers.  I started to get ready for the big reception that night and as I finished cutting the tags off of my new suit, Erin came in and started to get dressed.  We went downstairs and met everyone.  We were headed to a very posh reception at "Quai d'Orsy" which when we told people, they immediately went "oh la la" - this wasn't a shorts a slippers type of place!

We arrived and had our identification and invitations checked by the french military before we were allowed entrance.  We all were in awe of the place and took hundreds of pictures before we even walked up the red carpet towards the inside.  We were ushered back towards the reception area.  We spotted Erin's new principal for the year and introduced her to the other teachers.  After a brief couple of speeches the wine and desserts began to flow.





We helped ourselves to some champagne and mingled with the other fulbrighters and a couple of principals that had made the trip.  One principal tried to leave early, but there was another state function happening at the same time and we were required to stay put until we were released.  Maybe I did end up in prison after all - if so, and if the champagne kept flowing, I don't think I'd mind!

The next day was more of the same.  Touring around Paris with the kids.  It was a lot of fun.  We played "touche" (tag), in the Luxembourg Gardens and generally ran around.  We ate at "McDo" (my first McDonalds experience in France) and were blown away by how fancy it was.  The teachers had another dinner (this time without me) so the girls and I took the kids out to a pizza place.

That evening the teachers came home and crashed.  The girls who had helped me watch the kids wanted to go to see the Moulin Rouge.  So I went with them.  They were not expecting to walk off the metro and for it to be....so blatant.  So we found a bar across the street and had a few drinks while watching the Moulin Rouge.  A few Americans heard us speaking English and ran over.  We just started talking and ended up losing track of time.  We bolted to the metro with 5 minutes to spare before they closed......or so we thought.  We missed it by literally 30 seconds!

As I was trying to ask the metro lady for help (in french) on how to get home a group of Japanese business men started asking me for help (in english).  Then a french guy was telling the girls that he could help us get home by the bus.  He seemed very nice, but also a little drunk.  So I showed the Japanese guys where they needed to go (not far) and when I showed them where we were going they just said "good luck!"  We were about as far away as we could have been.  I joined the girls waiting for the bus with the drunk french guy and I talked with his more sober friends and we checked the map and lo and behold, he was right.  So we grabbed the next bus and headed home - extremely glad we didn't end up having to walk!

The next morning the kids and I stayed in and watched a movie.  Around lunch time the teachers joined us and we headed out to our mandatory medical visit.  We waited outside this closed (it was lunch time) government building on a side street.  Lots of other immigrants were there and were waiting in line, but it was arranged for us to just wait off to the side and come when it was our turn.  They took us in and it was very intimidating - but luckily we had our Fulbright person to walk us through the process and the workers couldn't have been any nicer.

When I was called, I explained I only spoke a little French.  She was really nice and weighed me and took my height.  Then they had me read letters from a distance (I just hoped I pronounced them correctly!) and then she gave me a book and asked me to read.  What?!  So I read the best I can, not understanding a single sound that is coming out of my mouth.  Just as I'm getting the "chez moi" (words I know!) she says I did good.  But wait, I can read that!  Oh well.

Next they put me in line with a few other teachers and explain that when its my turn to go in the room and take my shirt off.  But considering past problems I've had with my clothes and the french (the diver in Tahiti who wanted me to strip naked on the beach to put a wetsuit on and others), I confirmed with the teachers, "just my shirt right?"  When it was my turn they asked me to hold my breathe and then exhale (luckily I knew those words from watching TV - is there anything TV can't teach us?).  Then I had a short interview and the lady apologized for not speaking better English which I told her no, I need to be speaking French.  All in all, what should have been a scary process (and we're told its suppose to be to make the immigration process hard), was actually delightful.

So we headed back to the hotel to get our bags and then headed to the gare.  What an exhausting few days, just like DC was - and just like DC, it was a lot of fun!