As for teaching…

The teaching has been going well, for the most part. As expected, the all-girl classes are easier to manage than all-guy classes. I would say that maybe half of my students are legitimately interested in learning English and the rest are just along for the ride. When I have them play a game, they all seem to enjoy. But of course, this isn’t always the best way to learn, so I have to work around it. For some classes, I use more of a British accent, as they find it easier to understand. Thankfully, I don’t find it too difficult fake. You just have to keep your nose up.

Recently I’ve shown up to a few classes without a clue of what I was going to talk about, and it seemed to play out just fine. The classes become more interesting once I’ve gotten over answering the awkward first date questions. Although, today I had a “get to know you” with some intelligent students at the middle school and one of them asked, “Do you vacation for relaxation or pleasure?” Now that’s a great question!

 I look forward to picking up after the break with more comfortable expectations and a better awareness of effective teaching methods.  

One backpack, two weeks, one epic trip

When I mentioned earlier that the most difficult part of living in France is planning your next vacation, I was not kidding. After our first 4 weeks of work, our first 2 weeks of vacation has arrived, this time in honor of Toussaints, a religious holiday known is All Saints Day in the US. In the US, we may get an afternoon off for Halloween, celebrating the day before Toussaints. In France, they get two weeks to sit and ponder what the significance of the holiday is anyway.  

Fortunately, my roommate and I are equally ambitious and passionate for seeing as much of the continent as possible before we leave. We first began researching Eurail passes, which allow you to travel by train for a good price through a selected number of countries. Then, we discovered the Interrail pass, literally the same thing except its for European residents only, its cheaper and it allows you to travel by train to any of 30 countries in Europe. With all of Europe at our fingertips, we got to planning an epic adventure:

Thouars à Paris à Brussels à Amsterdam à Berlin à Prague à Budapest à Munich à Zurich à Paris à Thouars

So maybe ambitious was an understatement. We plan on traveling to all of these cities for 2 or 3 days (except for Paris, which is required connection to any city in the world out of France). Fortunately, there’s no reason that we have to stick to schedule, and it’s hard to believe that we can make it across the continent in two weeks, but I think we will give it our best shot.

Anyway, deciding where to go was easy enough. Choosing a place to stay and things to do is a whole other story. Fortunately, we have our first couchsurfing host reserved and ready to pick us up from the train station in Brussels on Saturday. The rest is anything but planned.

In order to make these extreme travels as stress-free as possible, I’ve decided to take just a backpack, a mere 65L Gregory Baltoro Industrial World Traveler backpack that is. Thanks to my mom, I am confident in my packing efficiency skills, and not to mention the “6 countries in 6 weeks with One Pair of Underwear”, which I laughed at when she gave me before leaving, should come in handy.

Also in the interest of space and efficiency, I’m traveling without my laptop. So blog access will be limited to iphone, iPad, i.e. short posts with lots of pictures. I hardly know what to expect but I can hardly wait to find out. I’ll try to keep you all posted. 

The backpack, packed and ready for two weeks of adventure

Bought a Euro-style winter cap yesterday. Got to be ready for all types of weather on this trip

Musical Dilemma: Big Talent In Rural France

When my host teacher, Stéphane, asked if I’d like to attend a jazz concert on Monday eveing, I have to admit that I was a bit skeptical. I have come to learn that Stéphane loves all sorts of music but that perhaps our tastes don’t match up to the tee. This would be my fourth concert I’ve attended with him since arriving in France. The first was a relatively impressive 4-piece orchestral band at the local theater in Thouars on my first night here, which was well worth seeing, not to mention it was free. The second was actually less of a concert than a brass band festival, which endured an entire Sunday afternoon, featuring about 10 different bands who performed upon the courtyard of a beautiful Loire Valley chateau. I can’t say I regretted going, but of the five hours we were there and the 15 performances that we saw, the first 30 minutes were by far the most entertaining, and standing up for such a long period of time took its toll on my energy level. The third concert was expected to be more traditional, a jazz ensemble featuring one of Stéphane’s close friends. Sure, why not? Well, it turned out to be the local elementary school students performing their annual fall nursery rhymes while some country folk gave their best effort at playing along with out of tune music and poorly choreographed dance. The fruit juice and sliced bread was not enough to make up for the debutant performances.

Frankly, I was beginning to doubt I would ever experience a truly satisfying concert in rural France, not to mention this concert was to take place in Montreuil Bellay, a town even smaller than Thouars with about 4,000 people. Regardless, I agreed to attend, with nothing better to do and the lowest expectations in mind. Upon arrival, it was nice to know that between the 6 euro tickets and the 1 euro beer, it was well within a teacher’s salary, however elementary the performance may be.

Then, Nadéah took the stage. A tall, blond, Australian who speaks fluent French, and carries herself with the attitude of Beyonce, the humor of Ellen DeGeneres and the charisma of Lady Gaga…. Not to sound overly exuberant, but she was simply an incredible performer, and it was one of, if not the most impressive rock concert I have ever witnessed. I’ll try to post a few videos so that you can hear for yourself in however poor audio quality that I captured on my iphone.

When the concert ended and I saw that she was selling merchandise by the entrance, I knew that it was time to introduce myself. I went to order a large poster but was so nervous that my French sounded terrible, and she immediately picked me out of the crowd: “Where are you from?” she asked. “Atlanta, United States” I replied. “And, you live here?” “Yes”. Those were the only remarks we exchanged, before she took my poster to sign and wrote “For Matt, What the hell are you doing here”. I was amused, to say the least.  

As I left, I grabbed a pamphlet to see what other concerts she would be performing in the area. And low and behold: Paris, Rome, Geneva, Berlin. Nadéah was in the midst of an epic European tour and had been so kind as to stop by our small commune to shed her talent. It was a big city performance in a small town, and I’m glad I was lucky enough to see it. Thanks to Stéphane, however odd your musical tastes may be, Nadéah’s performance was well worth my while.

Poster signed by Nadéah herself

Nadéah on tour, from Paris to Montreuil Bellay

Nadéah in concert, video1 

Nadéah in concert, video 2

Couchsurfing in La Rochelle

Needing to get away for the weekend, we decided to travel to La Rochelle, a port city about 2 hours drive from Thouars. Fortunately, one of the professors at our school lives there, so transportation was easy enough to arrange. Accommodation, on the other hand, required a bit more planning. I had heard great things about couchsurfing, a website that enables travelers to stay on a budget while voyaging across the world, and figured it was time to give it a try. Hosted by Arthur, Manon, and Sylvain, university students studying Chinese and foreign affairs, my roommate, Sonia, and I were provided free accommodation in the city center, which worked out brilliantly. Food, drink, fête, repeat: an easy enough routine when surrounded by similar aged people who know the lay of the land.

The couch (on the left) and fellow surfer, Sonia (on the right). One of our hosts, Manon (front and center)

Sonia, La Gourmande, going for more food and drink

Our chinese host, Sylvain, preparing authentic Chinese cuisine and Jess, fellow student of asian studies,  looking on

Real Chinese dinner, in the middle of France

Beer and Beats

Pictures from a Saturday evening beer festival outside the city of Saumur. Entertainment provided by a group of rock musicians, medieval board games, and a slew of international beers.  

A few quality choices offered here. These beers might seem cheap, but we were actually surprised by the prices.  Most bars in rural French towns charge no more than 2 euros (a bit of a difference from 7 euro beers in Paris)

Magali (left), my host teacher, Sonia (middle), my roommate, and myself, sporting my new scarf. 

My "new" bike

She's been through a lot in one week, but as you can see, my bike looks to be in decent condition after a lot of rain and a week to recover from our epic journey.

Happy To Be Alive !

Written October 10, 2012

“Would you mind taking a picture of me?” My last words to my roommate, Sonia, before embarking on a disastrous, 50 km journey from downtown Saumur to my home in Thouars on my new bicycle. After a beer and a couple glasses of wine, few worries crossed my mind as to what may lie ahead. I would make the trek by following on a beautiful, clearly marked path along the Thouet River, which would take me straight home. There was no need for me to carry a cell phone, which would have been too much of a hassle to carry with no pockets. Neither would it have been logical for me to carry any money, form of identity, food, drink, etc. It would just be me, my bike, my keys, and a vaguely precise map of the route.

The journey began as smooth as butter, or shall I say goat cheese. I even a few “scenic routes” to explore a little more of the area, not the least bit worried that it was already 4:30 PM and the lady at the wine store had mentioned something about a 2 and a half hour ride. I thought of how easy the journey would be and how I would probably make it again some day to upgrade my bike, as I found the seat entirely uncomfortable. When the route charted off the river, I continued in the same direction, assuming a one size fits all strategy. Continuing onto a farm trail, I kept a steady pace until I began to slow and eventually stop in what had turned into a sea of mud or, as I later realized, cow poop. I chose the easiest of natural remedies by brushing off my bike with my hands, wiping it on my shirt, and retreating to find a new path.

Following a small country road, in the same general direction, I continued the journey. Two cars drove by over the next twenty minutes, but I refused to ask where I was to admit that I was lost. Finally, I discovered a nice bike path upon which to continue. It appeared to be along the same river as before, in the same direction as before, no problem. I continued along what turned out to be a grassy, poorly bikeable terrain, amidst nothing but trees, fish, birds, and an occasional toad that reached the size of my forearm. Then came my greatest challenge yet: apparently a tornado had swiped through the area, knocking down trees in its path, and thus on my path. I casually carried my bike over 2 trees before approaching the third tree, which literally stretched across the entire river to the nearest barbed wire fence. With no easy way around, up or down, I had no choice but to backtrack the first two trees and return to my former, small country road path.

At this point, I was only slightly worried about nightfall. As I had already been biking for quite some time, I had to be close. But I was awfully thirsty. So I decided that I would stop the next car to ask for directions and a glass of water. No cars drove by for the next....half hour or so. Then I decided it was time to stop at the next house I see: no houses in sight for what seemed like another half hour. In my daze, I knocked on a barn door with two trucks parked outside: no luck.

Finally, I came to a highway intersection and saw an illuminated sign for a restaurant. I dropped in, immediately apologized for smelling like cow turd and asked for a glass of water and a bit of information on where I was. The waitress was kind to inform me that Thouars was just another 20 km away, but as night was approaching, she bid me good luck and told me to be careful. So with legs fully cramped and butt fully numbed, I raced the sunset to arrive home as soon as possible. 20 minutes passed by: signs indicate that I’m headed back to Saumur, my journey’s origin and nothing is posted for Thouars. Once I reached the next village, night had fully arrived and the dangers of continuing on a two-lane country highway were evident. At this point, I was again thirsty and now quite hungry as well. So I stopped at the first roundabout, ready to hault the next car and demand some attention.

In the distance, I could see the faint image of another biker coming towards me, so I made my way towards him to confirm my directions and hopefully find out where I could get another glass of water and some bread. The man politely listened to my story, informed me that he has just taken his bike out for a short ride to toss his recycling and that I could follow him. By the time we reached his house and I get off my bike, I can hardly walk. He asks me how I would fancy a lemonade and ham sandwich, and I assure him that any form of nutrition will suffice. After a bit more talking, he tells me that Thouars is still another 20 km away. I’m slightly over half way between Saumur and Thouars and it’s completely dark at this point. Thankfully, he is well aware of the danger I would have to face and the likelihood of me spending the night in the street and offers me a ride home, which I can’t refuse.

I’m glad to back home after what turned out to be a 4 and a half hour journey. Lessons learned that carrying a cell phone and money are essential. It’s not easy to find an excuse for hitchhiking when you have a bike, but under extreme circumstances, the French are willing to help. Hopefully my legs will recover quickly, as I will be standing up through two long days of classes ahead. Whatever the case, I’ll glad accept a little leg soreness and a dirty bike for the chance to sleep in my own bed tonight, well nourished.

Why Are You Here?

Written October 4, 2012

Teaching in France has been quite amusing up to this point. For the most part, the children are very eager to ask me questions about where I’m from, what I do, what I eat. Others are so blunt as to demand: why are you here? I’ve done my best to appease their curiosity without stretching my white lies and American stereotypes too far. Hopefully, no one minds my insinuations that all Americans do is eat McDonald’s, drink Coca-Cola, and watch football.

As teaching assistants you’re expected to work for 12 hours a week over a 7-month period, with 8 full weeks of paid vacation. As for me, I’ve been lucky enough to arrange a schedule that allows for 3-day weekends every week and most days I work only for 3 hours to make for a comfortable work, life balance. And this brings about the most challenging part of life in France: planning the logistics of your next vacation. With no Internet, this can be an even greater challenge, but this is a popular topic of conversation in and around the office.

Not surprisingly, the French educational system is entirely different from that in the US, in good ways and bad. The schools can seem entirely disorganized upon first impression but they actually run quite well. French high schools are set up similar to an American University. Most students choose a specialty after middle school and being preparing for their profession right away. Most students enter the general/technological school, which is designed to prepare them for French university or grand école (Ivy League status in France). Other students (about 25%) join the professional school, which is designed to prepare them for work directly after finishing high school. The latter is where I’ll be teaching 9 of my 12 hours. My students range a wide array of professions: from auto mechanics to electricians to secretaries and they attend all their classes with other students who study the same profession.

When the headmaster called an all-teacher meeting or Réunion to discuss the agenda, rules, and amendments to be made for the 2012-2016 period, it struck me that the teachers are very well aware of issues that exist at the school. We began the meeting listening to and interrupting a speech from the headmaster for an hour before breaking up into groups of 15 for 2 hours where more detailed discussions of how we could improve the school ensued. From logistics to communication to technology, many brilliant ideas were suggested amongst my group. But because of French social customs, every time someone brings up a good idea in conversation, it turns into a joke or someone immediately changes the subject. In a French meeting, there’s no such thing as waiting your turn to speak. You speak whenever any logical or satirical thought pops into your head. There’s no order for when topics will be discussed. If you have something to say you say it, then someone interrupts you, someone else makes a joke, everybody laughs, the next topic is discussed and the process repeats. When the meeting finally came to an end and someone suggested we draw a conclusion, what we concluded is that there would be no conclusion. The regimen will remain the same, we will bring a cake to the next Réunion, get paid to teach and all will be well. No lie.

Welcome To The Real France

Written - October 1, 2012

With no Internet, no 3G, and a pay-as-you-go phone that has .08 euro of credit, I have survived my first few days in Thouars. Frankly, I don’t feel alone amongst the people here. The natives are entirely concerned with their selection of wine and cheese, the upcoming performances at the local theatre and not much else.

Since arriving, I have experienced a very warm welcoming from the school where I will be teaching. All of the English teachers are very excited that I’m here and assure me that I will be the first American that their students have ever met. It seems like every lunch and dinner here is a preplanned, extravagant 5-course feast. Perhaps this is in celebration of my arrival but I’m beginning to think that this is just the French way: 3 brilliant meals a day, no snacks in between.   

Thouars is a quintessential French town, just south of the Loire. The city plays host to several ancient landmarks, from 10^th century churches to medieval chateaus, one of which serves as a local middle school and thus, my office. There is a great market in the center of the city on Friday mornings from 7 to around noon where you can purchase excellent fresh product (fruit, vegetables, cheese, meat) as well as seafood from the coast. The market is very well known, and people come from all over the region to catch and sell the latest and greatest in local produce.

The heart of wine country is not far from here, as from anywhere in France. But the locals rave that the wine in this area in particular may be lesser known than Bordeaux and Bourgogne but boasts equally as high of the quality. Whether this is true, I’m comfortable knowing that great wine here is basically free: 4 euros for something average, 7 euros if you want to truly impress. 

En Retard

Sorry again for no blog updates. There is still no wifi at our apartment 2 and a half weeks after ordering it, which brings me back to Mcdonald's. This time not for eating, just for blogging.

Mcbaguette

In case anyone doubted the authenticity of my previous post...

Hello WIFI

It's been over a week since I've had the chance to access this blog, so I apologize to any and all anxious readers who would like to know what I've been up to. The truth is that I have been writing since I left Paris, but haven't had a chance to post any of it yet. There's still no internet at my apartment and there's one computer at the school that I share with the other teachers between classes but otherwise, it's been a pretty medieval lifestyle since moving to Thouars. I didn't even know until a minute ago that the Braves lost on Friday and UGA lost on Saturday, probably for the better. So, as I sit and finish my McBaguette at McDonald's this evening, I will try to post some news and photos before my laptop runs out of battery (21% but dropping by the minute).