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.