Beret count = 44.

In case you’re wondering what that is about, I thought it would be funny to keep a running count of the people I have seen wearing berets. So since I arrived back at the end of August, I have counted 44 people wearing berets. I honestly thought it would be higher.

My bed situation still sucks. I went last Monday to the Conforama, the store where my landlord had bought my bed, and they are sending someone out next Thursday to look at the bed. In the meantime, I rearranged my furniture to accommodate the pull out bed, so the apartment isn’t so horrible to get around. It isn’t ideal. But this is the way that it will have to be arranged when Eddie comes out, except the pull out bed will be able to be stowed.

On the Jenn is really mature front… in my Written French class, we read a story about a seal in the Greek Isles. The French word for seal is “phoque”. Yeah, guess how that’s pronounced… The point of the exercise was to read the text, pick out the words that describe certain things, and then reduce the article. And when the teacher started talking about the seal, she kept saying “phoque”, over and over again. And it was really bad because I was sitting next to a couple of other American students who shared my amusement. And then I caught the giggles. Horrible.

On Saturday, MICEFA organized a day trip for us out to Mont Saint Michel. Which was 4 and a half hours from Paris. And we did the trip in one day. 9 hours on the bus in a day. Ick.

But it was incredible. Mont Saint Michel is an old abbey built on a tidal island. When the tide is out, it is a part of the land, and when the tide is in, it is an island. The abbey dates back to the sixth century, and was just beautiful. Except for the tourists, it is such a peaceful place. There is a cute little medieval town on the island, and we ate crepes there.

The weather was beautiful. Some clouds, but no rain, and just a little wind. It was cold, but it ended up being ok, because there were a bazillion stairs to climb.

When we finally got back into Paris, a few other MICEFA students and I went and got some beers, and watched a Rugby match. I have never really watched Rugby. That game is insane. We watched France vs. New Zealand. The New Zealand players scare me, they are insanely buff. I really want to go see a match now.

And Saturday was the first night that my weather controlling abilities failed me. It rained as I was walking home. I figure I must have been tired.

Something interesting I have observed as far as cultural differences go is the French’s attention to detail. It really has become prevalent in the classes I am teaching. Last week, I played a simple BINGO game with my 8 year olds. I told them to make a cross on their papers. All of the students pulled out their rulers and made their crosses perfectly. It has come out in a few other things, like the students’ constant concern over whether I want them to write in pen or pencil, write things in columns or rows… very specific tiny details. One class in particular (the class belonging to the directrice) is very particular about my cursive imperfections. If I don’t do the tails just so, they let me know.

I have tried to tell them that I don’t care about things like that, it’s not important, what I care about is the fact they understand. But that just doesn’t seem to be very French. I am working on trying to become more structured in the details, I have to be sensitive to their culture and what they are used to, I just find it strange. If the kid wrote in huge printing with crayons, it wouldn’t matter to me, as long as they got it.

I also get to give the kids a test in a few weeks, and give them grades. That’s going to be a fun challenge, figuring out how to do that. I have begun reviewing things the kids should know. I’m beginning to see that a lot of the kids know the words, but don’t understand them. If I start asking them questions out of context, (for example, doing a lesson about time, and then asking them their age) they are totally baffled. An example:
Me: How old are you?
Student: My name is Amandine.

It is almost funny, but once I start really working on it, and repeating, they seem to come around.

Another thing that I noticed is the French don’t say “bless you”, (a tes souhaites) when people sneeze. I heard there is some sort of rule of three or something.

And one of the biggest cultural differences is the bisous (kisses). When saying goodbye or hello to friends, and when I meet new people, I often “fais les bisous”. This is just odd to me sometimes, because in the US, I hug friends, and shake hands of new people. But it is also pleasant. I might just kiss everyone back home. Haha. Try to start a trend.

This weekend was such a blast.

On Friday night, I went out with Tizoc and Blanca. They are students from Fullerton too.

Tizoc is gay, so we went with him to a gay bar in the 1st. (Across the river from where I live). It was so much fun. I love gay clubs. Blanca and I were 2 of only I think 4 girls in the place. It was so awesome.

As we were leaving, Blanca and I were standing by the door while Tizoc went to get his stuff from the coat check. An older guy, obviously drunk, and came up to me us and said “You know that you are in a club for boys?” We just looked at each other, I was afraid to respond, and then he said “But you both are very cute” and walked away.

And in Paris, the Metros stop running at about 12:30-1 am. But there is a whole system of night busses set up, which is awesome. There are three lines that run by my apartment. Yay for not spending money on taxis!

On Saturday, I went to the Panthéon. The Panthéon is a building in France where some of the giants of French history are laid to rest. It is a stunning building that was built to replace a church that was built in the 500s.

The upper floor was closed due to restorations. But the ground floor was remarkable. Except that there was an “art display” that pretty much ruined it for me. The “art” seemed to be someone wanting to drape something that looked like balls around a beautiful building. Needless to say, I didn’t get it.

Downstairs was the crypt. We saw the crypts of Pierre and Marie Curie (Marie Curie is the only woman deemed worthy enough to be interred there), Rousseau, Voltaire, Louis Braille (which had a Braille marker under his name, which I thought was cool), Zola, Dumas, important revolutionaries, statesmen, and heroes of the resistance, and my new favorite author, Victor Hugo.

I am now reading Notre Dame de Paris (The Hunchback of Notre Dame). In French. The more I learn about Hugo, his life, and his works, the more I admire and respect who he was. Plus, he wrote great stories.

After the Panthéon, we went to the church right next door, St. Etienne du Mont. It was beautiful. The church has the tomb of St. Geneviève (the patron saint of Paris) which was actually destroyed during the French Revolution, but salvaged, as well as Relics. Racine and Pascal were interred at the church, but because so much was destroyed during the Revolution, they really don’t know where now.

And after getting lost, we went and saw the Arènes de Lutèce. It was this really cool Roman arena that just seems to be hidden in the middle of buildings.

After that, we headed back to my place, and got Vietnamese food for dinner. It was soooooo good. And then we went to Sylvana’s, rented Les Poupées Russes (the sequel to L’Auberge Espagnol), and got some wine. It was fun, and right as were turning in, the girl from Spain who lives right down the hall came pounding on the door. It was her birthday, and she thought that we should go party with her.

It was quite funny, she was soooo excited because her friends gave her Tequila as a present. And she wanted to share. Jenn + Tequila = no good. I tried to explain that if I even smelled Tequila, I wanted to yak. (There are two types of people in this world; those who can drink Tequila, and those who can’t anymore. I fall into the second category.) But she kept on trying. I ended up convincing her that all I needed was a beer, it was her birthday, and I didn’t want to take away her Tequila.

And then the poor girl passed out in the middle of her living room floor. And we told her friends that it was tradition in the US to draw on the people who pass out. So they drew on her, and then started drawing on each other. It was so hilarious to watch.

Sunday was my typical homework/ lesson plan day.

But Sunday night we went out. We started the night playing pool, and then went to a Fondue restaurant. It was my first experience in a Fondue restaurant, and it was sooooooooo awesome. I loved it.

And my bed is broken. Which sounds like it has potential to be an interesting story, but it isn’t. It was broken when I came, and the girl before had rigged it so it was fine. But my landlord’s parents came on Thursday to “fix it”. The bed was supported by slats, and they put a solid piece of wood over the slats, and cut the rigging made by the last girl.

So Friday night when I was sleeping, the mattress just fell. Luckily, there is a stow-away mattress underneath, so I didn’t fall to the floor. That would have been traumatizing. Now I am sleeping on the stow away mattress until it gets fixed. And in an apartment that is 13 meters square, there isn’t much space left. I’ve had to move furniture around to accommodate it. It’s not pretty.

At the risk of jinxing myself, I think I survived my first train strike. Luckily, I didn’t really encounter any problems. A few people did. Apparently sometimes the strikes turn into a mess. And they happen somewhat often, so who knows what mess I will see in the future…

But the week has been boring. Work, school, babysitting.

Except at my school, things are always changing. Nobody showed up for my adult conversation class. So I BSed for two hours with a couple of the other teachers. And they are changing the way my classes are going. Instead of having 30 students twice a week for each class, I will have 15 students once a week. Which I think is better for the kids. There are some that really get the English, but those are also the students with an English speaking parent or something like that. I will get a chance to spend some time with the kids who don’t quite get it, and be able to help them out more.

Apparently this was caused by parent’s complaints. In the middle and high schools, the kids are in groups of 10-15 doing conversation English. The parent’s want the same for the little ones. And the district said ok. I guess there are a lot of things that happen like this. One of the teachers told me she didn’t like that they were doing that, because she likes sitting in with the class, and learning English as well. That was nice to hear.

Allison and I gave our presentation about Southern California in my Oral French class, which was actually really fun. People were mesmerized by our coolness. Or our sillyness. Allison talked a little bit about the Valley girl thing, and gave a little demonstration “Like, you know, like, oh my god, like…” and the teacher asked us to translate. Which was way more hilarious than just trying to speak like a valley girl. Because the French word for “like” is “comme” (pronounced like “come”). So here we were, saying “comme, comme, tu sais?, comme, mon dieu, comme…” it was kind of hard for me to keep a straight face. And then one of the girls from NorCal in the back was trying to help, and she said “beaucoup de comme”. I almost lost it.

Now I have to just convince myself to keep going to that class. There are only two factors in my grade for the class. The first is my presentation, and that is now done. The second is my final exam, which will be about a book that we aren’t even going over in class. The teacher doesn’t even take attendance. But I am going to try to be good. It’s just hard when it is my only class on Tuesday and Thursday.

The weather has been strange. It got friggin cold. One morning on my way to work, the temperature was just 35 degrees. Yikes.

And then it became beautiful. The days are sunny. A little on the cool side, in the high 50s.

The meteo said that there was supposed to be rain all week. And I said I think not. I find it hilarious that there hasn’t been any rain. Once again contributing to my theory.

And I’ve been splurging on food. Mmmm.

This week, while I was doing my laundry, I decided to go to my local bakery and get lunch. I had a piece of Quiche Lorraine, and a brownie. I swear I felt my eyes roll back in my head. One morning when I went to school, I went to the bakery there, and had a pain au chocolat. Fresh from the oven. I love French food.

And I am in love. With Gunther. If you have no idea what I am talking about, go to www.gunthernet.com. I always have had this strange fascination for uber-cheesy things, and Gunther definitely does it for me. Amanda first introduced me to Gunther when we first got here, and he just keeps getting more awesome the more I check him out.

I’ve been enjoying my vacation from work. But on my real day off, after the Halloween party, I had to meet up with a classmate in the afternoon to go over a presentation that we were going to do on Thursday. I even cut hanging out with Sylvana and Amanda short Wednesday night so I could go home and practice and all that. And of course you know what happened. The teacher called in sick on Thursday. Argh.

It has gotten to be friggin cold here. The weather website says it’s in the 40s at night. I don’t know about the day, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like much more. I am so thankful that it hasn’t been raining. The only thing worse than being cold is being cold and wet.

Speaking of cold and wet, I also now know that I need to buy candles. Saturday night, right after I got out of the shower, the electricity in the entire apartment building went out. So I was stuck with wet hair, no heater, and only moonlight shining in the one window without a curtain. The only thing I could think to do was curl up in my bed so I could try not to freeze to death. By the time my friend called, I was zonked out. Oh well.

Sunday was the first Sunday of November, so that meant free museum day! I decided to go to the Louvre. It was awesome. I was expecting there to be a ton of people, but once I got there, I waited in line for less than five minutes. Sweet.

I saw the things you are supposed to see at the Louvre… La Joconde (The Mona Lisa), The Venus de Milo, and the Winged Victory. Photography is now no longer allowed in some parts of the Louvre, so I couldn’t take pictures of La Joconde, the other DaVinci’s I saw, and the paintings by Gericault and David. Oh well. It’s not like there aren’t 85673027584902584932 pictures of these paintings out there, I just kinda wanted to add my own to the collection.

I have seen most of the paintings when I’ve been in Paris before, but I have learned about the history and things, I can appreciate them so much more.

It cracked me up that there was a guided Da Vinci Code tour. And of course I had to go to the inverted Pyramid. I read the book too, I’m a dork.

But what was almost more awesome was the fact that the Louvre used to be the Royal Palace. And the French Royals knew how to do things. The design, the style, the architecture, it was all so incredible. The floors were so intricate. I could have walked through that place empty and still been satisfied.

As I was leaving the building, it became incredibly modern. The lower floor of the Louvre is now like a shopping mall. Complete with Sephora. And soon, a Starbucks.

Ah well, now it’s back to work. Waking up early. Ick. 7 weeks until my next vacation. And my brother is coming out for Christmas. I am so excited, yyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. I crack myself up.

On Monday, my History of Literary Paris class walked around the area near my apartment. It was really cool, we got to see some neat places. We saw the famous cafes of the Saint Germain area, Les Deux Maggot, Le Lipp, and the Café de Flore,

and right by there was where Sartre’s mom lived. I also saw the places where Racine and Oscar Wilde died.

I found out that Picasso lived in an apartment two blocks from where I live.

And one of the coolest things we saw was the remains of one of the first walls surrounding Paris in 1200. Yes, 1200. It exists in an underground parking structure, a block from my apartment. I feel special, because I would have been protected in the wall.


And once again, we had gorgeous weather. It was a little cold, but it was sunny, no rain. We even got treated to a rainbow.

And Tuesday was quite a day.

I had my medical exam so I can get my residence card here. It’s funny to me, but they require you to get a medical exam to see if you have any communicable diseases before they let you stay here. However, you have three months to do it in. I have been here for two months already. If I had TB, they would be screwed.

The exam was quite interesting. I had to get a chest x-ray, and that was an experience. They put me into this little room, and I was told to strip from the waist up, and then someone would come get me. So there I was, standing topless, waiting for the door to open. At first modesty came over me, and I was covering myself as I was waiting. And then I thought “how many boobs have they seen today? It’s no big deal”. So when the lady opened the door, I decided to just strut. I think she thought I was crazy.

And once again, it was the attack of English. It says American on my paperwork and before anyone had talked to me to see if I even knew French, they started speaking to me in English. I still kind of feel offended, and I do answer them in French, even if they keep talking English to me.

Everything was fine, I got my silly stamp (the French love their stamps), and headed off to class. From class, it was off to Sylvana’s and Amanda’s for partying!

The Halloween party was so much fun! I decided I didn’t want to spend any money on a costume, I prefer to eat. So I used a bedsheet for a toga, and was a roman goddess.

It worked out awesome. We cut some ivy and made head thingies. Sylvana was originally going to dress up the same as me, but the sheets weren’t quite working out for her. So she dressed up as a gypsy.

It was sooooooooo much fun. I love Halloween.