Tuesday, April 27, 2010

a week of one last times and sad goodbyes

I have less than a week left in this beautiful city, 9 days left in France, and 2 weeks left in Europe. It hasn't entirely hit me yet.






I was reading some of what I wrote in my journal when I first arrived in Bordeaux. Two sentences in particular stood out to me: I can't even cry. I feel numb.

I have come full circle. I can't seem to cry about leaving here. I feel numb. I'm in serious denial.

On a happier note-I went to Biarritz this past weekend. It was lovely. I have never seen water so crystal clear and blue. And having spent way too long wearing only a tshirt and underwear as a child, I felt a special connection with this kid.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

pound the pavement

The French are an interesting bunch, to say the least. In the past year and a half, I’ve become so accustomed to their quirks, that they seem normal now. I know to say “bonjour” when entering a store, and “merci, au revoir” when leaving. I’m constantly scanning the sidewalk ahead of me, looking for piles of dog poo. When French women give me their judging stare, I stare back. When I do get a drink with ice, it is never more than two cubes. There is no such thing as an endless cup of coffee here. “On time” means up to half an hour past the appointed time. There is no such thing as a quick line at the grocery store, and the average time spent at an ATM is 5 minutes. They will always correct my bad French, sometimes in even worse English. I never even try to pay with anything over a 20. I always look for the exact change and am prepared to accept an eye roll and an exasperated sigh when I say that I don’t have it. I don’t hate these things about France. Most times, I just shrug them off with an oh, so French “PFFFFF!”

HOWEVER, there is one quirk of the French that still drives me absolutely up the wall. And maybe I am just feeling particularly annoyed with it right now, because the weather is nice, and more people are out and about. But, French people are entirely incapable of walking. They meander, every last one of them. I have no problem with meandering, but when you have 60 million people all doing it, the simple act of walking down the sidewalk can cause a lot of stress for the a non French person.
The scene- two people are walking towards each other on the sidewalk. If these people are not French, they naturally just step aside, usually to their respective rights. But, if one of those people is French, the non French tries to step aside, and the French person will continue walking towards the non French person, until they are just about to pass, and then for no reason at all, the French person will step to his left, putting him directly in front of the non French person, nearly causing a collision. Why does the French person do that? God only knows, but THEY ALL DO IT. They stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalks, stairways, doors, etc. They cut out in front of people without a second thought, only to then stop short. There is no walk in a straight line DUI test here, because drunk or sober, they can’t do it. When you are trying to pass them on the sidewalk, they will not step out of the way. They also walk down the middle of the street, then act annoyed when cars come up behind them, forcing them to return to the sidewalk. Running along the quai on a weekend afternoon is literally a human obstacle course, and I don’t even consider doing it on my bike. It’s as if they are all wearing blindfolds, except of course when they are giving you their judging stares, shortly before stepping in front of you.

And in case anyone is curious as to the main reason I don’t drive here, the term "blindfolded" also can be used when talking about their driving.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

who'd a thought it?

Tomorrow is the end of my second year teaching in Bordeaux. I am 14 hours away from unemployment.
Good news- After all these months, I still find myself saying "Wow, that's the first time..."
Bad news- Today's first time (and hopefully only time) = My weekend plans, as well as my vacation next week (probably for the weekend, possibly for the vacation) could be ruined by volcano in Iceland.
I think some day I will laugh at the absurdity of this, but right now I am not laughing. I'm mourning the loss of good times, life experiences, and euros spent on nonrefundable tickets.
Mother Nature is a cruel woman.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Sorry future husband and future kids, but yesterday WINS

Yesterday was the greatest day of my life. I AM DONE AT TIVOLI. FOREVER!!!! YES! Congrats to me. Hip hip horray. Throw the confetti. Laud. Woohoooo. Yahoooo. Heck yes. Never again. WoOt. Good riddance. Red letter. Jubilations. Champagne all around. Celebrations. Monday cloud lifted. Cheers. Rock and roll. Felicitations. Beat the drum. Blow the horn. Rejoice.
My kids were in fine form, and made it difficult up until the very end for me though, and I told them that yesterday. To which they replied "Quoi? Euuhh, we...euuh...do not understand zis uh" To which I gave them my standard answer "I know. And that is why you are in English class. Now pay attention."
Other highlights from the greatest day of my life include one class telling me they thought my accent was ugly. I had several thoughts on that: 1. What accent? 2. How can they even tell a difference? Up until 2 months ago when they asked me if I was returning to London for the February break, they thought I was British. 3. French people's British accents are creepy.
My actual response was "That's okay, Americans like Quebecois French better" to which they responded "AWWW, c'est pas possible ca!"

One of my favorite punishments to give the lycee students is a dictation, where I say something in English, and they have to copy it word for word, then I grade it. Usually I just read from whatever book I have in my bag. Just as I was starting a horrible class of 17 year olds yesterday, I realized I forgot my book. I desperately dug through my bag, looking for anything in English, all I had was my passport. Although they were bad enough and I should have made them do the dictation, it was only used as a threat yesterday. I am slightly disappointed about that, because from the quotes by notable Americans at the top of each page to the "Important Information" sections, I think it would have made for a very unpleasant dictation "The Secretary of State of the United States of America hereby requests all whom it may concern to permit the citizen/national of the United States named herein to pass without delay or hindrance and in case of need to give all lawful aid and protection" That is pure gold. It almost makes me wish I had another day at Tivoli so that I could use it.

Monday, April 5, 2010

weirdos

Sometimes I just look around, and say to myself "French people are SO weird!" Here's some of the videos I have taken the past year and a half showing just that.

This past Saturday was International Pillow Fight Day (I'm not making this up http://www.pillowfightday.com/). Bordeaux had its pillow fight on Sunday. By French standards, that is on time.




This is La Grasse Bande (http://www.myspace.com/lagrassebande). I guess they are just a street band, or something. I don't really know. But at any rate, I LOVE them, especially their Thriller dance. There is a guy standing right in front of me, but you still can get the idea.




CARNAVAL 2010!





Carnaval 2010-what America is like, according to the French






To be fair, this was in San Sebastian, but it was weird just the same.




Needs no explanation!




Another performer on the streets of Bordeaux




Ok, so this isn't weird. It is from the American Cemetery in Normandy, and there was just something about the chimes and the fog that gave me chills. Side note-Normandy is amazing. No one should ever go to France and not go to Normandy. It is beautiful and charming, there is obviously SO much history, the people are nice, etc. GO GO GO GO.




A guy on the Garonne, and that's as much as I know.




The first of the MANY MANY MANY protests I saw in France




People snowboarding on the Dune du Pyla





One of my first days in France-