French Potpourri

 Since writing the last blog I've encountered so many shareable moments, each time thinking "This would be great for my next blog!" All of these random thoughts have formed in my head a sort of hodgepodge mix of nonlinear anecdotes. I really can't focus on one. That's why this weeks blog will be fragments of my thoughts on my work, my life, and this country.


Thoughts from the classroom...

• 

  Shot from my 2nd graders class.
  I hope it's not illegal that I'm putting these up...

  No matter where you are in the world, little kids are all the same. They have no concept of how uncomfortable it makes someone when you just stare at them.
  
  
  And I get stared at a lot.
  
  
  Teacher's lecturing, I'm seated in the back of the classroom and there are a good 3-4 students per class who are completely turned around in their chairs, wide-eyed gawking. No concept of discretion. 
  
  
  One of my favorite gazers: Chubby little girl who chews on her pen and likes to whisper things to me at the back of the classroom. "Merci..."she whispers (but everyone can obvs hear), "...pour le chocolat." (I gave the kids a bunch of Halloween candy last week)

• Little French kids give me "Bises" (little kisses) to greet me which is so adorable (except when they're sweaty from recess). I still haven't quite become accustomed to this cultural phenomena. It's cute when it's people you want to see or cute little kids, but sometimes you have to kiss someone you really don't want to be close to or someone who's lips are too wet and yeah...that's gross.

  

  One of my favorite picture that a preschooler drew for me.
  It's me in blue, playing with another me, in pink.
   I asked her "Why are their two Cydnys, that's kind of impossible?"
  She responded with what her mom says is her favorite phrase,
  "C'est pas grave" (It's no big deal) 

• Kids are hilarious. They really do say the "darndest" things. Everyday during a teacher's lecture there's at least one student who raises his or her hand and shares a completely irrelevant, usually breathy, story. One kid shares, "M-M-M-Miss Cydny...my mom taught me umm how to say "bonjour" in English...ummm, I forgot."  I'm thinking 1) Cute, but irrelevant being that we're talking about Halloween. And 2) We've been back from recess for 30 minutes now, why are you out of breath?? WAY too excited about sharing their stories.
  
  
• That's another thing -- I forgot how intense recess is for Elementary students. 1 black top. 3 nerf balls. 200 students. Shit gets real. And at my school the kids have 4 recesses a day, which might seem like a lot by American standards, but French people are masters at taking breaks. The best part about recess is watching how the kids can have so much fun with nothing.  Seriously though, it's so intense. There is always that one kid who comes in crying after recess. Yep, that's about right, we average one cryer a day.

This is only a fragment of the craziness.
So intense. 

Thoughts from my vacation in Montpellier...

My voyage from the North (Lille) to the South (Montpellier)
was a 5-hr train ride that would have been a fun ride if I'd remembered my
headphones, a book, a magazine... or anything for that matter. Staring into space for 5 hours is no fun.

My second day in Montpellier I wrote in my journal:

I almost forgot the South of France.

And now that I'm here, the crisp smell of the

 Meditteranean Sea,
the rustic buildings,
the freshness of every piece of food that passes the threshold of my lips...
This is where I fell in love with France.

          

          It rained the rest of my trip.

My host parents bragged about how they had just gone swimming a few days before. I look out the window at the storm and ask “Well, do you think I can go tomorrow?” “Hahaha,” they laugh in unison, “Sure you can...if you dare!” Bogus.

That's what's so funny about France. There's this myth that the south is always warm and the north is always cold. I finally got around to watching that movie “Bienvenue Chez les Chtis” (see first blog entry) and it's definitely opened my eyes to some of the stark cultural differences (& misconceptions) about northern and southern France. Click here to see the trailer of the film (warning: terrible quality). A comedy, Bienvenue chez les Chtis tells the story of a mailman living in the coveted region of Provencal France who, after an unfortunate series of events, ends up being relocated to the northern “cold,” “unfavorable” region of Pas-de Calais (where I live!) The movie is about his trip there and how he makes friends, dispells myths, and blah blah blah...(I won't ruin it for you!) It was a cute movie. And I will say this: After watching it I see these differences...

First thing my host parents friends say when they see me (mind you, there's a STORM going on outside) is “Cydny! How can you bare it up there in the north?! It's always so rainy...and cold.” It's like the kettle calling the pot black. And on the other side, everyone in Pas-de-Calais toted about how nice my trip was going to be. “OOO Cyd, you're going to be by the pool all day!” “Make it to the beach!” “Take advantage of the sun!” And, like I've been saying...it rained my entire visit.



I picked fresh pomegranate from my host parents yard
 (something you actually can't do in the North)

For me, there's hardly any real climate differences. To better understand what I mean, let me break down a little bit of French geography for you readers back home. France is super small compared to the US. Small like, I took the train from the Northern most region to the southern most region and it was only 5 hours (5 long hours being that the lady next to me had serious underarm funk, but 5 hours all the same). In the US, that's like driving through 4 (of our 50) states. The climate reflects this ratio. No matter how much French northerns say they live in the cold, and French southerners say they live in the warm weather, neither of their extremes even touch the hottest or the coldest temperatures in our country. So, for me, the only difference is the south is warm and the north is mild. It all feels the same.

The biggest lesson I learned from my visit: Vacation is all about the people you are with, not the physical destination. 

I'm really glad I got to see my host parents. 

Thoughts with no real rhyme or reason...

       You know you're in France when...

1. The bus STOPS in the middle of a road it can hardly fit on so that the driver can make small talk with a fellow bus driver going the reverse route. You EXTRA know you're in France when no passengers seems to care. Typique. 
2. You get vacation for 10 days from public, strictly laique (or non religious institutions) schools for a catholic holiday...that no one here celebrates.
3. The Big Mac at McDonalds actually looks like the picture in the menu.

       It sucks when...

1. Your host parents go on about how much weight you lost (when you really didn't) and your host dad casually says how you used to be fort which literally means strong but in this context was most likely a euphemism for thick as hell.
2. You say one word to someone and they automatically switch to English. It's only happened once, but it's an annoying way of telling you that your accent sucks.
3. The overweight lady seated next to you in the train is sweating all over your side of the armrest. 
4. It's Sunday and every store is closed. You're out of tampons. And none of your neighbors at the retirement home have any on hand because they haven't needed one for the past three decades.
5.  You forget that French voltage is double what we use in the US, and you nearly set your hair on fire with your blowdryer...and now your hair is kind of brittle.
6. You're elementary aged students think it's funny to yell at you "HELLO" every time you walk by. That sucks...in a cute way.

OK, that's all for now.