IAS 380R La Rochelle

Large Cultural Proof

      I was starting to regret lugging a giant pair of purple rain boots to this country, however this week they've been thoroughly put to use. Sylvie, my coordinator/ boss here in France sent out an email last week saying she was in desperate need of people to accompany a group of kids on a week long field trip to La Rochelle.  We (Krissy and me) were told we were going along because both of the teachers taking the 24 kids are men, and the mothers felt much more comfortable with female chaperones as well. For matters of propriety, we would be needed if a girl slipped in the shower and we needed to fish out her unconscious body. Otherwise, we would have free time during the day while the children attend their music workshops. "You will be able to explore La Rochelle and shop!" we were told.
      The reality of the situation doesn't quite line up with the sales pitch.
       So far I've made a million beds and added a million extra blankets to keep children losing extremities due to lack of heat, changed sheets on a bed where an "accident" most certainly took place, trying to be discreet so as not to further embarrass an 10 year old boy. But to my dismay all the kids caught me at the scene of the crime holding the evidence, and giggled hysterically. I've revived my early morning seminary trradition of waving a hair dryer around a room and in my bed to keep from getting hypothermia, and earned myself the nickname "Miss Marmot" for curling up under my blankets in any spare moment we have. I got stuck in the mud on the beach, guiltily trying to hide my boots from the kids who would less than 24 hours later get hard core yelled at for committing the very same felony. We also played in the snow, read a book in our jammies, and sang a song about lion soup. Have you ever had lion soup? Or tiger pie? Well, neither have I. We played some games, learned some words, ate some cake and hot chocolate. An uber cool Parisian group taught us how to make music using a computer program and how to make rhymes and write lyrics about the cold and the ocean. We collected sea shells, watched the sea gulls and sun set on the water. And it's only day two.

.....Later....
This week has been exhausting. And cold. The heaters never got fixed the whole time we were there. Between the changing sheets, various musical activities for the camp, and walking on the beach, there was mealtime. This was a ritual I most thoroughly enjoyed. We ate in a cafeteria-like add on to one of the older buildings and food was prepared by 2 or 3 women who worked there most of the year for school groups like us. The food was always exceptional. The children, aged CM2, 9, 10, and 11 year olds, sat at round tables and took turns getting bread or water and we (the two male teachers, Krissy, and I) dished up the salad, soup, shepherds' pie, lasagne, etc. Then the children were supposed to wipe off the tables and help clean everything, but that often didn't happen and they often got yelled at for it.
       There are three schools I normally work at, all of which are in nice neighborhoods and the kids come from families who are fairly well off. For most of these children, that's not the case. Their school is situated in one of the few more dangerous parts of Poitiers, and according to the Headmaster, who was one of the two teachers we accompanied on the trip, most of the children have at least one family member in prison. He often talked to us about how "they just don't get it," meaning that they have to really work and try to be good to break the cycle; otherwise they will end up pregnant or in prison like their older siblings and parents. He frequently yelled at them, which I have decided is just a typical French method for handling misbehavior, but we could also see that he cared greatly for the children. It was actually a few days into the trip that he told us about their families and such. And before that, seemed to me to be perfectly normal children. I didn't always think they merited being yelled at; often it was for some small offense that I think any excited child on a school trip could've done. However there were other times where I could see that most of them hadn't been brought up in a terribly refined culture.
       One of the last days we were at a museum of natural history, and the kids were running about and acting more wild than anyone ought to in a museum. A man who worked there approached me and told me that if they continued to run, they could easily knock over one of the pieces on the floor below because they were causing the ground to shake. He said they'd had a school group earlier that month that had done just that, and they had been extremely fortunate not to have broken it. I told the Headmaster, who immediately rounded up the children and gave them one of the most firm, stern lectures I'd ever heard him give. He told them about a girl who was at the primary school, L'école Andersen. She later went on to collège (middle school), and got pregnant in her first year of collège. Then the daughter got older, went to the same primary school, and also got pregnant in her first year of collège. Then, the granddaughter, she followed the same pattern. It seemed to me to be not quite the appropriate lecture to give when their crime was running through a museum. He probably tied it together somehow, and I just didn't catch that bit. However I am a firm believer that if you are always telling somebody they are one thing, they are much more likely to become that thing. If parents have a child and tell him he's dumb and can't be a doctor, then he is likely to eventually start believing them. So when you remind a group of children twice a day that they are underprivileged and from low income families that have lots of problems, and they need to work super hard not to have problems too, it's almost like telling them they're bound to have the same future. Unless they want to work super hard, which it's likely that these children aren't the type that excitedly anticipate the concept of work. Even if it's true that their futures are bleak, I think that constantly pointing out the bleakness is not going to help or motivate them to want better for themselves. It would be better to help them learn, little by little, the value of knowledge and teach them what their futures could be like, if they succeed. Anyway, I know Krissy and I were often frustrated by that. By how often they were yelled at. But of course the system is different here than in the US or Canada (Krissy is Canadian). Educators "educate" differently. I'll never know what happens to those kids. I'll never know if the great-granddaughter attending Ecole Andersen manages to escape the pattern set by her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. But I sure hope she does. And I sure hope some of the rest of those kids can learn to hope as well.

Learning to write song lyrics. Subject: food and the ocean!

on their way to the beach

office building. cafeteria on the left.

cafeteria

Krissy in our lovely room

everyone at the museum

With a shrunken head!
She wants to be a fashion designer when she grows up <3

IAS 380R SFR: Une Vrai Expérience Culturelle

Small Cultural Proof

Notre histoire commence avec SFR. Quand mon frère et moi sommes arrivés en France, nous avons eu les problèmes vraiment terribles avec le procès pour obtenir l'internet. Je suis allée à la boutique de SFR et j'ai signé le contrat. Le représentant des ventes a dit que dans trois ou quatre jours, il serait obligatoire d'aller au petit magasin pour obtenir notre Neufbox. Il y avait quelqu'un qui nous appellerait à dire que notre Neufbox est prêt et nous irions y aller de l'obtenir.

Alors, nous avons attendu. Et attendu. Nous avons fait beaucoup de visites à la boutique de SFR pour demander à l’emplacement du Neufbox. Après deux semaines, mon frère est allé à la boutique et ils ont dit que le Neufbox était prêt. Il a obtenu notre Neufbox et nous étions trop contents. Cependant, quand nous avons essayé d'installer le Neufbox, il n'a marché pas. Quand nous avons demandé au sujet du problème ils ont dit que nous avons devons appeler quelqu'un qui peut installer le Neufbox parce que nous étions les premières gens qui avaient un Neufbox dans cet appartement. Donc, nous avons appelé encore et prévu un rendez-vous. Cependant, il n'y avait personne qui est venue pour le premier rendez-vous. Pour le deuxième, l'homme a dit qu'il ne peut rien faire et c'était en fait obligatoire d'avoir un autre homme qui peut nous aider. Finalement, après deux mois sans internet dont SFR m'a chargé, j'ai fixé un rendez-vous avec l'homme correct qui a travaillé pendant cinq minutes d'installer notre Neufbox. C'était un miracle !

Je vois qu'il y a une mentalité commune en France que si un système ne marche pas, ce n'est pas grave parce qu'on ne peut rien faire de corriger les problèmes. C'était toujours comme ça, donc, c'est bien sûr le moyen le plus pratique.

 Je n'ai pas trouvé une solution à ce problème. J'ai l'internet, mais chaque mois, je vais à la boutique de SFR d'obtenir un reimbursement pour les deux mois où ils m'ont chargé avant que j'aie reçu l'internet. Ils ont dit que je peux avoir un mois, mais je dois écrire une lettre à SFR pour demander l'argent pour le deuxième mois. Je trouve que c'est absolument ridicule. Ils sont une grande société et le seul moyen qu'ils peuvent fonctionner est de retirer mon argent. La bataille continue !

FR 311 Vocabulaire 3

1. to care for                    se soucier de
2. to draw attention          attirer l'attention
3. to fulfill                       respecter
4. to guide                       guider
5. to limit                        limiter
6. to obey                        obéir
7. to promise                   promettre
8. to retain                       conserver
9. to set aside                  réserver
10. to donate                   faire don de
11. to fast                        jeûner
12. to give, to provide    donner
13. to include                 comprendre
14. to meet needs           répondre aux besoins
15. to pray                      prier
16. to receive                 recevoir
17. to save                      sauver
18. bone                         un os
19. flesh                         la chair
20. sin                            le péché
21. succeeded                réussi
22. to face                      faire face á
23. to suffer                   souffrir
24. trial                          une épreuve
25. burden                     un fardeau

IAS 380R Birthday Party

Large Cultural Proof

     I was invited to an overnight birthday party for Sarah, a girl in the branch, who was celebrating her 20th birthday. It was only the second time I was the only English speaker at a social event, the first being Adélie’s raclette party. Sarah had invited other friends from church, none of which were in our branch because Sarah and I are the only Jeunes Adultes in the Poitiers Branch. Her other friends came from as far as Rennes to celebrate and spend the night. There were nine of us total, including her younger sister. We played games, ate elaborately presented food, and went to church together the next morning.
    Sarah and her family don’t live in Poitiers, but in Châtellerault, a small town in the country. From Poitiers centre, it’s 30 minutes by car and a short 15 minute trip by train. I arrived at the train station at the same time as two other girls, and Sarah’s mom was there to get us. Their house was small and humble, but very cozy, with lots of portraits of children on the walls, stone floors with rugs, heavy wood furniture and china cabinet. They had set up a table with a tablecloth and fruit juices and chocolate candy. However the very first thing that happened when we entered the house was that Sarah’s mom went to search for some slippers for each of us to borrow. Since she has mostly daughters, she apologized to the boys who were already there that she didn’t have slippers for them. It was then that I began to learn the importance of slippers in French culture. Sarah had spent what must’ve been hours preparing a scavenger hunt, with clues and riddles leading to “missing pearls” hidden all over the house. I wasn’t much help with this, and occasionally Sarah would lead the group in collectively translating or explaining some of the clues to me. There were 20 some pearls, so 20 some clues as well, and the hunt took us several hours. Finally we lined up all the clues on the floor to decode a secret message. We never actually got around to decoding it, however, because I think at this point people were losing interest. So next we played a very active game of charades. Sometimes I needed help with the word I was supposed to act out. Obviously if you don’t know the word, you can’t very well act it out....
    We continued to play games, sing karaoke, and talk for a while Sarah’s mom finished with dinner. At around 8:00 her mom brought out trays and trays of snack-like foods, including chips, bruschetta with cheese, meat, eggs, or olives, pizza cut into squares, etc. All of this was followed by a large salmon paté and more horderves. The grand finale was a giant chocolate cake with “Joyeuse Anniversaire, Sarah!” written on the top. We turned the lights off, sang, and Sarah blew out enormous candles with fat, sparkling, whistling flames. Sarah’s mom served up enormous portions of the cake, so rich and huge that I thought I might get quite sick if I finished it. I’ve noticed that the French seem to have an extremely high tolerance for rich foods when it comes to celebrating or lunchtime. Almost all of the girls finished the cake, but there were a couple, like me, who set it down for 30 minutes or so and then finished it on round II.
    It was interesting being the only anglophone at a relatively long lasting social event. There were times where I was quite frustrated or embarrassed that I couldn’t participate more in the games or help more with the scavenger hunt, but it’s true that the whole time I was fascinated by being in a French family’s old stone house eating their special celebration food and wearing their slippers. But the more I learn about France and the world, the more I realize how prominent English is even outside of English speaking countries. For example, about half of the songs for the karaoke were in English, at which time they would throw me a microphone and tell me to help them. I also had a long conversation with someone about books and movies, most of which happened to be originally written or scripted in English.
     This party didn't differ in lots of ways from a typical birthday party in the US; there was still games, food, decorations, presents, and cake. However there were enough differences to be very interesting and culturally enlightening. I don't think in America we would find very many 20 year old birthday celebrations with salmon paté, capers, and slippers distributed to all the guests. What a lovely party it was, and all our feet stayed nice and warm!

IAS 380R Midnight Mass in Paris

Small Cultural Proof

A day doesn't get much better than this. Christmas Eve in Paris was lovely.

Santons are a big deal in France. They're handmade and painted clay figures that make a Christmas village. You don't just have the manger and carolers. There's the whole lot: the baker, the butcher, the cheese man, the doctor, the gypsies, the teacher, the washerwoman, the blacksmith. The list goes on. Because they're so expensive they're often given as gifts. 

I once heard a man at a Christmas market ask if they had any doctors left. The woman said, "No, we're all out of doctors." He was kind of upset and took off to continue the hunt. I guess someone was sick.

I started my collection. Got a few townspeople and the manger scene, of course. Couldn't find an angel unfortunately. Oh, or a baby Jesus. Kind of a critical component.

 

The Gallaries Lafayette theme this year was Rock and Roll.

The Agenda for the night. Here's how it goes: Everyone does their last minute Christmas preparations during the day. Then, around 11, every good little Catholic marches off to Midnight Mass. If you want the full cultural experience, you go to Notre Dame de Paris. You all stand in line and cram inside as tight as can be. Then you wait. Meanwhile, the Pope is being televised outside the building on a huge screen and inside on several smaller screens.

 

We got there earlier, around 9pm, so what we saw was not technically Midnight Mass, but the presentation of baby Jesus. In France, baby Jesus does not appear in the nativity scene until Christmas Eve. So it's a big deal when he appears. The bishop in Notre Dame read some announcements and scriptures, then brought out the most enormous baby Jesus I've ever seen. Then he took the baby, holding him high above his head, and walked around, kind of by the North Transept and placed the baby in the crèche. Would've gotten a picture if I could've lifted my arms. But it was really neat and the people followed him around to watch.

Then everyone either waits for real midnight mass, or goes home and puts their own baby Jesus in the crèche. Most people left and a new flood came in. The whole process took less than an hour. That's plenty of religion to last until next year!

After baby Jesus is securely placed in the crèche at home with the rest of the town (the butcher and baker and sheep and goats) it's time to eat! In France it's not Christmas dinner that's the big one; it's Christmas Eve dinner. I really wanted my family to do this the correct way. The proper French way. After all, it was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity that we would all be in Paris for Christmas. However, we'd already pretty much blown it. Since we'd spend so long at Galleries Lafayette looking at the window displays, we sort of forgot about dinner. Have you seen A Christmas Story? Remember the dog ate the turkey and they ended up at an Asian restaurant? That was us this year. Only it was Indian.

However, after the more traditional French family eats a huge wonderful dinner, it's time for the Yule Log! This was strike two for the Americans. We forgot to get the Yule Log. HOW can anyone forget the Yule Log, you ask? Erm....I don't know. And believe me, we were sorely disappointed in ourselves. We knew all the bakeries would close early. So we just...forgot. I can't be held responsible. Far too many sparkly things around. Anyway, after we would've put the baby Jesus that we didn't have in our chèche, we would've eaten our Yule Log. The following picture is what my mother insisted on calling a Yule Log. I know. It's embarrassing. Tasted delicious, nonetheless. What can we say? We're American. We're innovative and creative and definitely know how to think outside the box and get a job done. Hello Yule Log. (Yes, that is pistachio ice cream that you see.)

Joyeax Noël!

 The day after Christmas we found a real Yule Log.

FR 311R

This morning I met up with M. et Mme Bourbon, the elderly couple who runs the bed and breakfast where I stayed during my first 9 days in la Vienne. I hadn't seen them since moving into my apartment, but we became friends during that time of apartment and cell phone hunting, so it was so good to visit with them today. They came in for the market at Notre Dame which is the best place to buy fresh fruits, vegetables, bread, meat, flowers, etc. We met up and walked to a café where we got hot drinks and patisseries for breakfast. M. Bourbon said that my French had gotten much better since we last met and it was music to my ears.

We talked about many things, most of which will be applicable to the paper I need to write on the history of Poitiers. (Note: in French, the word for "history" and the word for "story" are the same: "l'histoire.") I asked them about the history of Poitiers and the Vienne, and they responded with enthusiasm about Joan of Arc, Poitiers' roman churches and the architecture, (Notre Dame de Paris is Gothic), the oldest and biggest nearby cities, which ones have good churches and roman ruins and which ones don't. There's a roman bath and amphitheater out by where they live, 20 minutes in the country. Also, they told me a story of when Poitiers was under attack from the English and someone snuck into Notre Dame to ring the bells and warn the people so everyone could escape. They said there are lots of stories like that which I made a note to research. I told them I recently traveled to Tours and La Rochelle. They said Tours is very modern because most of it was destroyed during the war and rebuilt. Angers, La Rochelle, and Limoges however, were not destroyed and therefor have a more classic, older look like Poitiers.

We also talked about the more modern gems of Poitiers: apparently there's a little shop that sells very nice, sturdy umbrellas made in the region. They told me which patisserie shop sells the best macaroons, which are a specialty of la Vienne. We talked about book and hat stores, orchestra, my students, and the Christmas market. Apparently Poitiers, which I think is so beautiful now with the lights, trees, and stables filled with live animals, is normally even more gorgeous. Previous years they've had more lights in more colors, but this year most of the lights are blue because it's more economical. M. and Mme Bourbon seemed to think it was not worth sacrificing the beautiful colored lights for economical purposes, and expressed their disappointment about the mediocre light displays this year. Also, there's usually an ice skating rink at Hotêl de Ville, which I was very disappointed to hear is not happening this year. We talked about other Christmas markets in other cities. Some are better than others. Some have colored little houses, but some, like in Tours, have houses made of wood. Blue lights, colored or wooden houses, live camels, this is all quite a lot more glamorous and magical than Christmases chez-moi, ice skating rink or not.

IAS 380R Les Voisins

Large Cultural Proof

My brother and I were invited to a party with the other people who live in our building. The building has one apartment per floor with 4 floors total. Right below us live a young, unmarried couple, right below them live another young, unmarried couple. And on the first floor I believe there lives a young single girl, but she wasn't at the party and I've never actually seen her. We were casually invited to the party for that weekend one day when we were coming or going from the apartment. They told us we would have light refreshments and drinks and were to come around their apartment at 20h on Friday night. My brother and I had no idea what common courtesy permitted us to bring. Seeing as we are in France, we figured we couldn't go wrong with a baguette and some brie. When we got to the party and entered their apartment, I was surprised to see that the refreshments laid out on the table looked much more American than our baguette and cheese, and I instantly felt a little awkward for bringing it along. But they were of course polite and grateful, and after we snacked on chips, pretzels, and nuts we ate the bread and cheese. Their apartment was of course almost the same layout as ours, except they had one big bedroom and an office space instead of two smaller bedrooms. Their furniture was very modern; a lot of it looked like it could've been from IKEA. They had a huge flat screen tv with mtv, a washer and dryer, and art and posters hanging on the wall. It was all very chic and professional looking.
     Everyone at the party was aged between 20 and 22, and we all got along quite well together and I found myself wishing we had gotten to know them earlier. We talked about schooling; one of the guys was done with school and all three of the others were still students. Two of them were studying tourism, which is obviously a huge industry in France. The guys spoke English better than the girls, but collectively they had a good time trying to communicate with my brother, who speaks very, very little French. We talked about America, which is so glamorous in their eyes. We talked about music and books and technology. After it started to get late, the conversation broke into two groups; the girls on the couch and the guys on the chairs, until the guys left to go do I don't know what on the street. Smoke maybe? Of the four people, 3 of them are smokers. That explains why our bathroom always smells of smoke; it's right above the office space where Violette sends Antoine when he wants to smoke. With just the girls, we talked about all of our studies, their relationships. (The other two girls didn't know each other before this night either.) One couple has been together for 3 years and just moved in together less than a year ago, and the other couple has been dating for 6 years and moved in together almost 2 years ago. That would've made them about 18 or 19 years old at the time. I asked if she thought they would ever get married, and she said she thinks so, eventually. But that seems to always be how it is here; what's the hurry? And with some people they don't even think it's worth the bother at all. Living together unmarried has become so socially acceptable that marriage has no meaning, and is even sometimes scoffed at for being old fashioned or giving in to ancient social pressures.
     The party actually went on later than I cared for it to. We had a fabulous time visiting and speaking French and eating, but I didn't get home until 3am. That's a 7 hour party. We actually ended up going to the other couple's apartment because everyone wanted to see it too, and then at that point they had to offer drinks and snacks as well. Finally I just had to announce that I needed to go to bed. My door was just right there, after all. I got the impression they wanted to see our apartment too; I think they were especially curious to see what the Americans' apartments would look like, but at 3am I wasn't super willing to invite them up, and thought I'll just invite them over another time. I'm sure they'll be disappointed; we are seriously lacking in stars and stripes decor. Maybe we'll have to find an Uncle Sam poster before that time!