Visa Crap.

As a temporary worker in France, there are many tedious and insanely annoying processes to go through, even though we're only here for seven months. I'm sure it's worse in the United States, mais quand-meme. So, I have a French bank account, social security number, health insurance, etc. The last step in the process was getting my visa validated which involved a medical visit at the immigration and integration center in Montpellier... on a Wednesday. I live in Lozere, so I had to take a train down the night before, and this is where the saga begins.

Being the nice daughter I am, I sent a package of French goodies to my family back in the States and I decided to do this right before my train left. I brought my package up, not taped and the lady behind the desk looked at me confused. Apparently the post office in Marvejols does not have tape. So, sorry Howards and Shaws if the package arrives busted open and broken as we taped it together with normal scotch tape. Anyway, because of this minor catastrophe, I end up running full speed up the mountain to the train station. I am two minutes late and decide to spring the last 200 feet. I run into the station to see the train was late and I had 2 minutes to buy my ticket, get a water from the vending machine and jump on the train. This train is never, ever, ever late. So, I'm thinking good kharma! Exactly. And that's where all my luck dried up.

The next day, I drag myself down to the immigration office for my appointment at 3pm. There are a bunch of other assistants I know there as well, so time went by relatively quickly, however the process didn't. After x-rays of my lungs (awkward experience) and meeting two other people, I was brought back to validate my visa... at 5:30pm. So, I ended up missing the only transportation to bring me back up to Lozere and home. Not being too upset about this, I decided to celebrate with a Kebab with a fellow assistant (be jealous Scott).

The next morning, this is Thursday now, I had a train at 8:20am that would bring me to Beziers where I would then take a train to Marvejols. It has turned into winter in Southern France and I'm none too please. Yes, 30 degrees isn't terrible but it's still not pleasant, especially because I have zero winter clothes with me. So, I have layers of clothes on and I am chilled to the bone.... and I look absurd wearing all my clothes. But anyway, I digress. As my train was pulling into Beziers, we stop. Curious. I look to see why. It was letting another train pass. What train? My connection train. So now I'm stuck in Beziers and there are no other trains up to Lozere that day. I rage over to the ticket counter and they could do nothing for me. I call my English teacher in Marvejols, she's incredibly understanding, as always, and we decide I should come up the next day. I then spend two hours in Beziers waiting for a train to Montpellier. In the mean time, these teenagers are having fights with old people about their loud music and throwing newspapers at me and this other dude. I finally got to Montpellier, asked the ticket agent if I could use my ticket the next day: no. Enraged, I take the tram out to the new mall in Montpellier and buy myself proper warm clothes and wandered around in an annoyed, exhausted stuper. Eventually headed back to my friend Lisa's appartment, Lisa the fantastic girl who takes care of me every weekend. We complain about the French for a while and take naps.

Well in the end I wasn't too upset to miss my train because I was able to go out to fondue with my friends to celebrate the last nights of our Maltese friends in Montpellier. The fondue was delicious, wine was in baby bottles and the ice cream was scandalously arranged. I loved this restaurant. Someone visit me in Montpellier please?

Finally. FINALLY. This morning (FRIDAY) I head back to Marvejols. I slept through my alarm and had to run to the train in high heeled boots. Why heels? Because I thought I was going to be in Montpellier for 24 hours, not 60. I make it on the train with 3 minutes to spare. The connection in Beziers was still there when I arrived and in fact waited 10 extra minutes for other train connections to come in. SERIOUSLY. I was able to sneak my expired ticket as a legitmate one and I was relatively happy. So, I found myself a nice compartment to myself with eight seats and private heating control. I put the heat on maximum, closed the doors and the curtains and slept. I awoke to a text from a friend in Paris about snow, I looked out the window to see myself in winter wonderland, corny I know. The mountains were covered in a couple inches of snow and it was still falling. It was gorgeous, I felt like I was on the Hogwarts express (Harry Potter reference) minus the candy car and magic.

Back in Marvejols, I slept the entire afternoon and have now commenced packing for my Christmas vacation that started today, or really Tuesday for me... Anyway, I'm off to Montpellier for a couple days, then to Amsterdam, Edinburgh, Manchester and London. Talk about cold!!

The Train I Take.

As I am often in Montpellier, meaning every weekend, I am often on the train. I've mentioned said train in past posts, but I feel I need to pay special attention to this part of my weekly life. As many of you probably know, Europe, France especially, is known for its train travel. There are high speed trains (TGV), overnight trains(iDTGV) and the normal trains (TER, Corrail, etc). Since I live in the middle of no where in the mountains, there are no wonderful TGVs, only the TER, this is why it takes me over four hours to and from Montpellier. As if four hours on a train isn't bad enough, it does, in fact, get worse.

Since Lozere is so isolated, many students board at their school, like mine in Marvejols. This means that every weekend, these students go home and since we're all in the Montpellier academie, all these students come from Montpellier up to Lozere. This "trajet," (I can't think of the word in English) is a straight shot from Montpellier to St. Chely d'Apcher, the third biggest "city" in Lozere, population 4,000? Now imagine: me and about 200 middle and high schoolers packed on a little, low speed train for four hours. C'est la guerre.

My afternoon down to Montpellier is spent attempting to drown out screaming, swearing, music and movies. All the kids set up their computers and watch movies, blasting the sounds but then those who want to listen to music have to compete with the sound, so they blast their music (as no one has headphones? This is still unclear to me.) And then, heaven forbid, a boy touches a girls head as he walks by her, she will SCREAM at the top of her lungs and scream some French obsenity. Then she will run after him and tackle him in the aisle and they will both scream. This happens every... 10 minutes. Meanwhile, food is being thrown, things are being broken and we're only 2 hours into the trip.

So the train ride down to Montpellier is bad enough, but when I get to the city, I'm with my friends and it's my weekend, so I'm happy! On the way back to Marvejols? Totally different story. It's like my ride south, times 100. The kids are even rowdier, I'm even more tired and things get much crazier. Apparently, this train that goes from Montpellier to St Chely on Sundays is notorious and no train controller will take that working shift. I was unaware of this. So, half way through the train ride, apparently all the of train staff gets off in the city of Millau and leaves the train unmanned until St Chely, about two hours. The mayhem that insues, dear lord. Kids are smoking cigarettes in every train car, other kids are smoking... other things. Kids are drinking and wrestling. Here I am. The 22 year old American assistant among crazy teenagers. Have I mentioned a lot of my kids take this train? This makes things extra awkward. By the time I reach Marvejols at 10:30 pm on Sunday, I am so drained and frustrated simply from the train, but then I have a 30 minute walk home.

All in all, I hate the train.

Festival of Meats

My roommate when I was in Aix used to tell me about her family's "Festival of Meats" which they celebrated whenever a family member returned from a long sejour away. I would like to call what happened last night a festival of meats. Susanna, our resident Austrian, had everyone over for dinner last night to consume the Austrian food and beer her mother brought her last week. Walking into her apartment I was welcomed by at least eight different kinds of smoked and cured meats being cut up for consumption. She brought me to her room to dispose of my jacket where she showed me two crates of Austrian beer. She then poured us each a small glass of liquor she called "welcome schnappes," plum schnappes her family makes themselves. We then proceeded to eat deer meat, white bacon (fat) and endless other types of AMAZING meats. Fortunately, our vegetarian friend could not make it to the dinner, or else she would have been horrified by our carnivorous nature. This meal, along with the amazingness that is Susanna, convinced me and others to spend our April vacation in Austria. Pictures will be posted soon. All in all, a very successful festival of meats, and you all know how much I love meat.

Yesterday was also the opening of the Christmas market in Montpellier. It's huge and gorgeous. I found a number of presents for my family and we're going back today. There were cheese stands, dried fruit stands, chocolate and crepes places and hot wine was being served everywhere. Hot wine? Yes, it's amazing and made with cinnamon among other spices. Today, I'm going to try the hot white wine made with honey. I love France.

Five Course Meal.

What I ate last night:
1. Crepes stuffed with shrimp and baked in Emmenthal and Guyere
2. Frogs Legs
3. Cassoulet de canard... duck, my favorite food.
4. Camembert cheese
5. Tarte au citron (lemon)

I'm still full and I can't wait to go back.

Flip Out.

After two long months of teaching English to young middle schoolers, I finally had my first freak out. My classes can get a little unruly, but it's usually because everyone is speaking at the same time because they're super excited to be in the presence of an American, no joke. I often have to hush my classes or yell for a second, but they are, in general, very good.

Fast forward to Monday afternoon. Not only was this my last class of the day, it was my fifth, I have a pretty bad cold and I'm still exhausted from the weekend. It was the 3eme class, usually my favorite to teach because they are the oldest, 15 to 16, and know the most English, so it's fun and I can joke around with them, etc. This class is always a little rowdy and there is this one kid who literally. never. stops. talking. Then there are these three OBNOXIOUS girls who sit in the back talking the whole time. There are two boys who are great and always answer my question, though they often tell me about how interested they are in Hitler and the Nazi movement... you get the picture. So, in order to practice the past tense, I had them create a story together as a class and I would write it on the board. I had done this is a class earlier in the day with much younger students and they did it perfectly... little did I know what would unfold.

I have never seen such a simple exercise be so complicated for people. Everyone was yelling and screaming and saying the dumbest things I have ever heard. I stopped the class and said calmly, "I am sick, I cannot yell and I don't feel well, please be nice to me and let's do this activity quietly." I repeated in French. I guess it was mess with Alissa day because things got worse. Finally, I had it. The kid that didn't stop talking was, obviously, talking. What transpired next will be written in English, but when it happened it was a mixture of French and English... and in a very loud tone of voice.
Me: I'm sorry, honestly, do you EVER stop talking????
Loud mouth: What? I'm not talking, I'm not even talking now, I didn't do anything....
Me: Oh my god, you're still talking... for the rest of the class I don't to hear your voice
Loud mouth: I don't understand, I didn't do anything, I'm not talking, I'm just sitting here...
Me: STOP TALKINGGGGGGG! (mutter things under my breath in English)
Me to the whole class: I do not understand what is so difficult about this exercise. It is the simplest thing we can do with the past tense and I know you know how to do this!! The 12 year olds did this activity earlier and they did it perfectly, you kids can't even form one sentence. Do you think you're dumber than they are??? It looks like you are. When I say stop talking, I mean stop talking. When I say stop hitting, I swear to God you better not lay one more finger on anyone. When I say give me a phrase in the past tense, DO IT!! (By the way, this is how French teachers talk to their classes all the time...)
Girl in the back mocks my accent, I whip around at her
Me: EXCUSE ME??? Do I mock your English?? Dooo I moqu-e yourrr engggleeesh w-hen zooo speeeek like deees? Izzz deees bet-tear w-hen I speak-e like deees? I do not mock your English when you speak with your awful accent, never mock my accent, I am not French and I never will be. I am your teacher, pay attention or leave now.

Class goes silent. Awkward. I bring them back to their teacher.

I get the other half of the class and try to do the same activity. Instead we start talking about drugs and swears. Fail, but they were much better than the first half. The bell rings, I book it upstairs to my room and pass out for 3 hours.

So there you go, my first official flip out in France. Don't judge me.

DINDE!

Bonjour tout le monde, ou bonsoir pour moi. I just got back from Montpellier after a long, five day weekend. I was fortunately able to rearrange my schedule so that I could have Thursday off for turkey day. Being in France for my second favorite holiday (first one, 4th of July), made me a little homesick and sad to miss an authentic Thanksgiving, but as the big day approached, I realized us Americans in Montpellier were going to do it right, but let's start at the beginning.

I took my usual, 4.5 hour train ride south to the coast on Wednesday. Upon exiting the train station, I hear gun shots. Curious, I thought, this can't be good and/or safe. I look around to see droves of people with banners and signs. Ah oui. Une greve (a strike). France may be famous for its wine, cheese and bread, but number four is probably their strikes. Everyone in France strikes; for example: gynocologists, ski lift operators... this strike? The wine makers of Languedoc. So, the streets were FILLED with a mob of angry, striking wine makers. Riot police were everywhere... SDFs (refer to earlier post) were running around with flares and fireworks. Me? Where was I? Unable to take the tram to my friends place, I was stuck in the MIDDLE of this strike. There weren't actually guns, they were... cannons? Trash cans were on fire, people were chanting and I was carrying 30 lbs of groceries trying to get away. Someone even threw a flare at me. Quoi????

Well I made it safely a la maison and was eventually able to take the tram chez Darcy, who was hosting the grand Thanksgiving feast. There, Americans were whipping up all sorts of seasonal dishes: stuffing, sweet potato pie, the works. The next day, a friend and I spent the day cooking and preparing for the big event. We created a beautiful table scape of ginko leaves and hazelnuts and set up for our big ol' turkey. Oh. Except in France, people don't really eat turkey, the largest turkey we could get was 4 kilos. 8 pounds. There were 30 of us. Everyone arrived to Darcy's place with wine and food in hand. We had pumpkin pies, foie gras, Maltese dishes, Algerian dishes... too much food to even comprehend. It was really cool to share Thanksgiving with our friends who are from around the world. Countries represented were Canada, Mexico, El Salvador, Colombia, Australia, New Zealand, Malta, England, Algeria, Greece, France, Jamaica and I'm sure I'm missing a few! It was a great success and will probably be one of my favorite Thanksgivings for the rest of life!

This weekend in Montpellier was also the Fete de Vignes... WINE FESTIVAL. Working at a wine shop for the past several years, I was obviously, for lack of better words, psyched! We all know Bordeaux and Burgundy wines, Champagne, etc, but my region, Languedoc has excellent wine as well! The usual mixture is of Syrah, Carignan, Grenache and Mourvedre, and like my wine shop boss, I love Syrah (Shiraz for you Aussie lovers). At each stand, I sought out their Syrah or their wine with the highest percentage of Syrah. I found one that smelled like my brothers hockey gloves... it was delicious. Well, we ended up tasting for about four hours because everyone was so friendly and interested in us Americans. I got to meet the winemakers of some wines that I sell in the US! It was great.

And now, I am back in Marvejols, doing my teaching thing. My kids are hilarious and obviously spend a lot of time on Google translate because the questions they come up with for me are absurd, inappropriate and amazing. It's almost December, which means it's almost vacation again. Oh la la. It is sad that I won't be with family during the holidays but I have some excellent plans with some friends from Hobart who are teaching lacrosse in England. I left the planning up to them, so I'm not too sure what's going to happen or where we are sleeping, but I trust them... I think. We are going to Amsterdam, somewhere in Germany, Edinburgh and Manchester then I'm heading down to London to catch my flight. My word.

L'internat

I went to Millau yesterday, a town about an hour south of Marvejols by train. Did a bit of shopping and spent half of my monthly rent!!! 30 euros... anyway, it was good to be in civilization! This past weekend I finally stayed in Marvejols for the weekend, but it seems I chose a not so good weekend. It rained and was cloudy and gross all weekend, so I barely got to leave my lovely middle school. Also, the cafeteria is closed on the weekends which means I have to fend for myself. Not a problem, except I don't have a kitchen, utensils, plates, microwave, really anything to help me survive. Fortunately there is a minifridge in the teachers room so I stocked it with things that required little preparation.
Things I learned:
-Salad in a bag in France, tastes like dirt
-The store brand I buy at the grocery store is Carrefour, sometimes they have items that are even cheaper called "Carrefour discount." These items are fine concerning cookies, soda, camembert cheese but NOT meat.
-One can survive on a steady diet of pears. Count for the weekend? 8.
-I really need a kitchen.

On another note, where I live in the school is called the Internat, aka the boarding part of the school. It's on the fifth floor, just above the science labs. Yes, I live with children. No, I do not hang out with them. We eat together, awkwardly, then I go to my room and listen to them run down the halls screaming until bedtime at 9:30. Sometimes, I stay in the computer lab late, skyping, updating this lovely blog, etc. Suddenly, and without warning, an alarm was installed on the door to the Internat. Me, being ignorant to this new development, waltzed into the Internat around 11pm to be greeted by a screeching alarm. Little boys came running out in their PJs to see who had tried to sneak out of the Internat. No, no. Just me, the awkward, random English assistant. Now I have a key to the elevator so I can outsmart the system. Moral of the story: I live in a cage.

This weekend, I'm heading down to Montpellier again, as usual. Perhaps a day trip is in order. OH! It's beaujolais today, which means the new vintage of wines has arrived!!!! I'm told there will be something going on in Montpellier to celebrate. On verra...

Vacances

Where to start. I just finished up my two week vacation on Sunday and I'm back in Marvejols teaching. I'll start from the beginning. Two fridays ago we celebrated Halloween early as many people were traveling for vacation and would not be able to participate. Being in France, I obviously didn't have a costume so I used the resources I had: black clothes. So, I was a funeral go-er, une funebre en francais, je crois. It worked alright but it definitely wasn't my finest costume. They next day there was a free Joan Baez concert in the main park in Montpellier. We brought a picnic and camped out early to get good seats. It was an amazing show! So epic to see such a legend, though we were probably the youngest people in the audience. The rest of that week was spent relaxing in Montpellier, saving what little money we all have left and singing in the streets. Yes, I sang in the streets with my friend Lisa. We made 15 euros! Enough for lunch and dinner, success!

One of Lisa's friends from home (Boston) is currently working on organic farms around Spain and France and had a plane disaster, so she joined us as well in Montpellier. We three decided to trek over to Barcelona for the weekend. What an incredible city! We stayed in three hostels trying to find the best deals and discover new parts of the city. We stayed right on the main strip of Barcelona, La Rambla for two nights. It was 75 degrees and sunny everyday! We did most of the tourist-y stuff, but we didn't have too much time! Sagrada Familia was indescribable, the Picasso Museum was fantastic and the tapas and sangria were delicious. We didn't have the classic "night out" in Barcelona where you stay up until 7am, we're too old to handle that. Instead we sat down by the port enjoying the weather and the water and chatting. I would definitely return to Barcelona to explore more.

The worst pickpocket on the planet: So, on our first day in Barcelona we were exploring the markets on la Rambla. While looking at bunnies, apparently some woman reached in my purse and took something. Don't worry, refer to the title of this sidenote. After gawking at the bunnies, I turned and saw a toothless woman standing next to me smiling. I looked down at her purse and I see my camera case hanging out of her purse. It's bright green and Vera Bradley, pretty obviously mine. She proceeds to just stand there looking at me so I snatched it back, grabbed her purse and checked that she hadn't taken anything else. Mind you, my camera wasn't even in the case. This means that this woman stole a $5 camera case with nothing in it and allowed herself to not only get caught but searched as well. No word for this idiocy.

We returned to Montpellier on Monday after a longgg day of traveling. The next day we participated in a pub quiz night where our team tied for first! Mind you the only thing I contributed related to economics and american football. Sweet. On Wednesday, I took a day trip to a BEAUTIFUL coastal town 20 minutes south of Montpellier called Sete; it was like a mediterranean Venice, but way cooler. The rest of the week I spent hanging out with my friends and enjoying the weather in Montpellier.

On Sunday, I made the five hour trek back to Marvejols where it has really turned into winter. Teaching is going well, though the kids can be real punks sometimes and they often don't understand a word I say. I'm planning on staying Marvejols this weekend, we'll see how that goes. Ahhh la Lozere.

note: I didn't spell check this. I'm too lazy right now.

A List: Things I will never understand.

1. Why hasn't everyone caught on to the "normal" shower in Europe? What is this handheld shower head that sprays water everywhere and never allows you to truly feel clean? It literally takes a hook and you have a modern shower, it's not crazy, expensive, American technology. It's common sense. I will never understand European showers.

2. Deodorant. It's not a new, fancy, modern technology. Use it generously, please, especially if you just took a shower with your stupid handheld shower head.

3. Why, seriously, why do people walk around France with their cell phones or MP3 players playing ON BLAST. No headphones. No, I do not want to listen to your music, please put on headphones. I'm glad I got to follow a group of French teenage punks blasting Snoop Dogg. On a bus? On a train? In the streets? This would not be okay in the United States. If someone did this on a city bus in Boston or New York, they would be shot.

4. French people don't put their milk in the fridge. That is disgusting. I don't even need to elaborate on this.

5. Why is everything closed from 12:00 to 2pm? I know that's when one has lunch, but therefore, that means that's when everyone needs to do their stuff; go to the post office, get phone minutes, etc. A two hour lunch break, though nice, is ridiculous.

6. Man purses.

7. The kisses on the cheeks. Sometimes it's nice, sometimes it's like, please do not invade my personal space. Not to mention it's three kisses in my region and in Montpellier. Do you know how long it takes to greet every person in a group with three kisses??? WHICH CHEEK DO YOU START ON??

8. Why does the ATM dispense 50 euro bills if no one accepts them? Having a 50 euro bill is like having no money at all except wildly more frustrating. I know they have change. Please accept my money.

9. I want coffee to go. A big one please.

10. Washing machines: take two hours.

S.D.F.

What is SDF? This is the much more politically correct term for the homeless that the French use; sans domicile fixe (without a fixed... domicile?). Anyway, this term is important to understand as I can pretty much categorize myself as an SDF. Yes, yes, I live in Marvejols, but really though, I have no fixed residence. This includes my life in the United States; I live in New Hampshire, but really more in Connecticut, I went to school in New York, I lived in Boston for a while, oh and there was that time I lived in France... sans domicile fixe. Why does this relate to me now? On verra...

On Thursday, I was officially going crazy in Marvejols. I couldn't take one more awkward silent meal with the students and/or teachers and I needed straight up human contact. I took the train down to Montpellier that night so I could enjoy the whole Friday in Montpellier. My friend Lisa was nice (and amazing) enough to let me sleep on her floor, HOMELESS. On Friday we at the most delicious kebabs I have ever had and drank amazing mint tea. After we wandered the markets and did all sorts of taste testing: olives, goat cheese, honey and, oh yes, wine. We were able to try a 60 euro bottle for free... then we went to about 4 other tents. I was in heaven. That night a group of us went to Susanna's apartment for an authentic Austrian dinner, again, amazing.

The next morning I woke up early to head off to Aix-en-Provence, where I studied about two years ago. I was so happy to return! I stayed in a hostel just outside of town in what might be considered the "ghetto" area, but the hostel itself was in a park. I then spent the day going to my favorite old cafes, fountains, etc. I met up with a friend from Hobart who is doing a semester in Aix and sat in my favorite Irish pub for a couple hours. Later that night, I had dinner with my host mom and it was SO great to see her. She really was the best host mom! We ate dinner with my friends she had introduced me to from Mauritius and Greece, always so international.

Well, the real excitement happened later, which really explains the title of this entry. After grabbing a drink with my Hobart friend, I headed back to my hostel and arrived there around 1:15 am. Not terribly late, I thought. I walk up to the door of the hostel and it is locked. Curious, I thought. I went to the reception, locked. I went to every single door. Locked. Every window? Locked. Meanwhile it's probably 40 degrees out and at this point 2:30am. I banged on every door to no avail. As I was about to resign myself to either breaking into a car for the night or sleeping under a tree, I found one door open. This door, however, did not lead to the hostel but to an isolated conference room. There, I slept. I put my back again the heater, my scarf around my legs, my purse as my pillow and I "slept" on the tile floor. HOMELESS. I basically was a squatter. At 7am, when reception opened, I met the lady working at the door with a simple question that should have been made very clear when I checked in: "Um excuse me, is there are curfew at this hostel?" She looked at me in shock and said something to the effect of "Putain, did nobody tell you???? How long have you been waiting outside?" Seven hours lady, seven. So I trudged up to my run, crashed on my bunkbed until 10am, when I was forced to check out. Note: never. ever. stay at this hostel.

The next day I ended up taking an earlier train than expected because I was so exhausted. Saying goodbye to Aix for now, I dragged myself to the train station and simply walked onto a train to Marseille without a ticket. I had one for later so I planned on playing the dumb American. In Marseille, I found a train to Montpellier and sat on the floor because there were no more seats and I didn't have a real ticket. HOMELESS. Arriving in Montpellier, again, Lisa let me stay at her place. Instead of showering and composing myself, we went out and found an Irish pub that played AMERICAN football. Well, Giants vs the Saints, don't know if that really counts as real football... Also at this pub we met a group of 15 Englishmen who may have been the rowdiest group of guys I have ever met. Very fun and nice; we even did a little rugby scrum in the streets.

Monday, back to Marvejols. I'm beginning to get tired of living in Lozere, there is little to do and practically no one my age. The teachers are all really nice and welcoming, but after a while I don't feel like answer the questions: "How do you like Marvejols? Have you explored the region much?" Like... no... Fortunately, a teacher at the high school down the road came to my school last week to give me contact info for a Spanish guy that was working at the school that was looking for human contact... like me! I met him for coffee today and we talked for about two hours about how sick we are of Lozere. He even almost left last week because he was so bored! But now we have eachother. His English is excellent and he's going to teach me Spanish. Moral of the story: I have a friend!

Starting on Thursday, I have two weeks of vacation. You know, after working less than three weeks, I'm glad the French government realizes we need a break. Where I'm going for vacation... still no idea.

Encore a Montpellier.

Last weekend was another one spent in Montpellier. I had my orientation on Friday with all of the other assistants in secondary schools. It was potentially the most boring day of my life mainly because we had all been teaching already for a week and did not need to be oriented anymore. But, they paid for lunch and my hotel, so I won't complain anymore! I also was able to meet the two other girl assistants in my region, though we are still at least a 30 minute car ride away; better than a 5 hour train I guess!

After orientation, we had a group dinner and ended up hanging out in a park right near the center of Montpellier where a bunch of Spanish students were playing guitars and drums and dancing. It was an amazing night and we met a lot of very interesting characters The next day we had plans to meet at 9am to go to Nimes, we knew not all of us would make it.

So, we went in three groups to Nimes. One left at 9am sharp, the next around 11am, and my Nimes Dream Team left at 12:43 and literally had to hold the train doors open so we wouldn't lose some stragglers. Nimes was beautiful and filled with ancient Roman ruins, most importantly Les Arenes. We picnicked in a beautiful park and made it back to the train in plenty of time. That night, my friend Margot, from Mexico, had us over for Mexican food, it was delicious and definitely the one thing I miss while I'm abroad! After dinner we ventured out to a club, I guess you could call it. The downstairs was AWFUL European techno music but the upstairs was much more relaxed with jazz, blues and oldies!

Finally, Sunday, we spent the day in a park picnicking and enjoying the sun before fall really comes. I had a train at 6pm that got into Marvejols at 10pm, so it was a long day. Not to mention I was, as always, surrounded by the the worst French teenagers in the world. Screaming "ta guelle" and "putain" the entire time. (I will leave you to translate this text.)

This week has been thus far uneventful, I think I'm buying a car... and I had to explain to a bunch of 14 year olds what a WASP was. I also found out there is another assistant in Marvejols, in the high school down the street for Spanish; I may have found a friend at last!! A la prochaine!

Questions.

After spending far too much time trying to figure out the quickest way to Montpellier from Marvejols, I resigned myself to the 4.5hour train ride through the coastal city of Beziers, not a bad view at all. As always, I was surrounded by punk French teenagers who blast music and smoke cigarettes at every stop of the train; c'est ma vie. All in all, it was a relaxing ride. I got into the city around 5 and booked it to our favorite juice bar where these hilarious guys make us fresh juice while doing magic tricks and playing the didgeridoo. Definitely my favorite place in Montpellier.

The weekend was the full of meeting new assistants, exploring the city and getting to know each othe rbetter. Everyone is finally getting apartments, so we had house warming parties each night. As always, we were quite the multinational group, or as my Maltese friends say "maltinational." At my friend Lisa's apartment we had Americans, French, Algerians, Greeks, Mexicans, Maltese, Germans, Austrians, Colombians and British party goers. Our only common language amongst us was French and occasionally English or Spanish. It was a great time!

Sunday was anther beautiful day spent at the beach. It is gettin a little colder, or so I'm told, but it's still in the high 70s! It was quite windy at the beach so I didn't fully go swimming, but we stayed until sunset and had a great time. After that I had to stay in the youth hostel in Montpellier because my train was at 7am and i didn't want to burden anyone with my presence on their couch. The hostel was an absolute animal house as were the roads that surrounded the building. It was perfectly safe, but definitely not perfectly clean. I showered at a friends place so I wouldn't be subject to hostel showers and I went right to bed as to avoid the rowdy crowd. In my room, which was made up of two bunk beds there was a woman... a 60 year old woman. In a youth hostel. It was odd, but she was, of course, very nice. I guess I just figured there was an age limit!

So this morning, I took the 7am bus and train to Marvejols to arrive at 10am. I saw the same kids from last week, who recognized me immediately and smiled and waved. Upon arrival, I nearly ran to my school to make it to class at 10:30. The teachers here are so flexible, it's incredible! But I got there on timem thankfully. I made it to class to answer more of the same questions, my name, age, etc. It wasn't until my second class that things got more interesting. The following ensued:

Student (Hossni): Do you like pizza?
Me: Yes, of course!
Hossni: Do you like rugby?
Me: Yes, I used to play rugby
Hossni: Do you like to cook?
Me: Yes, I love to cook.
Hossni: Ah bonne, bonne femme. (translation: oh good. good woman.)

Thank god I'm marriage material for this young man of 12 years. But, the day got even better. My next class had the oldest kids in the school, so their English was much more advanced. They had a list of questions for me, but one boy, Guillaume, was much more curious:

Guillaume: Have you ever been on, what do they call it, spring break?
Me: Yes, I went to Florida one year and North Carolina last year.
Guillaume looks absolutely and utterly shocked and horrified. We move on to another question.
Guillaume: Wait. You've been on spring break? It's like, a huge party in the south, non?
Me: Well, I mean, it is vacation for students, so we like to go to the beach, it really depends where you go. Where I went, it was about relaxing and being in a warmer climate.
Guillaume: But, isn't it a huge rave? Don't people die?
Me: What? No... how do you know about spring break?
Guillaume: Well, I know on spring break that what you do is wake up, go to the beach, drink all day, go to raves and finish your day with sex.
Me: Silence. Laughter. WHAT??? No, Guillaume, that's not what it's like... I mean, that's not what it was like where I was... where did you hear about this?!
Guillaume: I've seen a documentary. It's what you all do, non?
Me: Alright, well, spring break isn't like that. I don't do that. Oh my god.

The rest of the day went on without any other hugely ridiculous question. Though in my class, with the youngest students of the school, a couple of students brought me presents. One brought me a picture of an airplane, another brought me brochures about Marvejols and another pictures of her farm with captions in the old language of the region, Occitan. The best gift was definitely the bit of tin foil filled with dried mushrooms. Apparently mushrooms are really expensive in France, but they grow naturally around here. JACKPOT.

Other than that, my day ended with a bunch of boarding students inhaling flan in the cafeteria at dinner, which promptly came out of their noses. Pretty average night. It's their bedtime now, so they're starting to calm down as they run by my door yelling "goooood nighhhhhht."

Maladroit!

I continue to be the awkward, random American in this school and in the town. Last night I finally decided to have dinner in the cafeteria with the kids. After getting the courage to go down to the cantine, I luckily saw two young people that work at the school who have been extremely nice to me. They introduced me to all the boarding students and we went in for dinner. One little boy wanted to sit with me so he could practice his English because his girlfriend is from Moldova and that's the language they have in common. Mind you, this boy is maybe 14. So dinner was succesful, but again, awkward, as my French is still a bit rusty!

Today was my first day as an actual teaching assistant. I had four classes with two professors. All the students had to prepare questions for me. I had the usual question "how old are you," "where are you from," "why are you here." But I had some other, more interesting questions:
-Do you have a boyfriend?
-Do you like muscle-y men?
-Do you like diamonds?
-Do you have a dragon or gorilla?
-How old is your mother?
-Do you live with your husband?
These kids were clearly reading off of a vocabulary list, too funny. In each class there was also a Don Juan who would ask repeatedly if I have a boyfriend and why not. One asked, or rather stated, "you are beautiful, you need a boyfriend." Thank you, 11 year old boy. A+.

After my classes, I trekked off to the train station to buy my ticket for Montpellier this weekend. During my walk, I discover the Hotel de Ville (town hall) and the library, both in beautiful, old buildings, pictures to come soon. After walking up a hill for what seemed like an eternity, I reached the tiny train station to find one person working the entire station. I purchased my ticket and timed my walk back to the school for future reference. Mind you this is from absolutely one end of the town to the other: 20 minute walk. I stopped in a cafe, because, well, I have hours of free time... and finally someone talked to me! This nice couple said something to me about mushrooms and the only thing I could respond was "pardon??" and eventually, "je suis americaine..." After that, they spoke slowly to me in French so I would understand. It was nice to have contact outside of the school and with people at least in their 20s... oh, and the same drunk man on his third beer was there again. Nice little afternoon.

My first week in Marvejols has been good, pretty uneventful, but good and relaxing. I leave for Montpellier tomorrow to meet up with some assistants and to enjoy the (still) beautiful 80 degree weather. I return Monday morning to meet 4 more classes of kids... how I will ever keep them straight, I'm not sure.

Wolves.

I arrived in Marvejols on Monday morning, after a hectic bus and train ride, to find pretty much what I expected: an extremely small village. One of the English teachers that I will be working with picked me up from the station and drove me to the college (middle school), an approximately three minute drive across town. I was then shuffled around by secretaries, teachers and the principal himself. I signed what seemed to be endless documents and introduced to who knows how many people. I tried to put my best accent on each "bonjour," but to no avail. I got my keys to my room, that is located on the 5th floor of the school, and I lugged my bags onto the tiny elevator. I live in the dormitory part of the school among around 20 students who board there; I am, of course, on the girls’ side. I was warned that the boys have been sneaking into girls’ room, so I have to really make sure to keep my door locked.

After throwing my stuff into my room, I went to lunch in the cantine with all the teachers. As soon as I walked down the hall, I could hear whispers of "c'est elle? c'est l'assistante americaine? ooooo." Then walking into the cantine I was welcomed with stares from droves of 11 to 15 year olds, all looking at my flip flops like I was crazy. Walking through the tables, a few students shouted "hello!" to me as I passed; I pretty certain everyone knows who I am. After lunch, I started unpacking my room, which is quite spacious but I can only describe it as my Van Gogh room.My windows look out onto the courtyard where the kids play and beyond that the mountains that surround the town; it is a fantastic view.

Since I don't start working until Thursday, I decided to stick around the school and unpack a few things instead of exploring. The exploring started today. My day started with a knock on my door from another English teacher, Lionel, at 10 am, wondering if I wanted to open my bank account. Half asleep and still in my nightgown, I said yes, but give me a few minutes. I got my bank account open fairly easily and headed back to the school for lunch, where I was greeted with hundreds of "hellllooooos." After lunch, I decided to venture out into the town.

Walking through the streets, I realized that Marvejols is definitely bigger than my hometown, Durham, NH. There are far fewer people, but many more restaurants, shops and cafes. I walked through the walled part of the city and was immediately reminded of Venice. All the roads are tiny and definitely not made for cars, though they do manage to squeeze themselves through somehow. I took a few pictures, but I felt absolutely absurd taking pictures of these people's every day lives. I walked down the Esplanade de l'Europe, which follows the tiny river that flows through Marvejols.

And the wolves. Let's not forget about the wolves. So, as I found out before arriving in Marvejols, the region (Lozere) is famous for its wolves. I thought, okay, maybe for the tourists there will be some wolf memorabilia; the wolves became a joke to me. But oh no. Yes, the wolves are contained to their little reservation, but on almost every storefront, there is a picture of a wolf. There is a cafe "Le Petit Loup," the little wolf. I found a fountain of wolf heads. Even the supermarket: a man in the school told me it was just behind the wolf statue. Wolves are everywhere.

All in all, I saw very few people my age and just very few people in general but it is a beautiful village with very friendly people. All the teachers here are very welcoming and extremely helpful. I start work on Thursday when I will be answering the questions "where are you from" and "how old are you" about a million times. Until then, I will entertain myself somehow.

The first few days.

First off, I arrived safely and in one piece.

I am currently sitting in my no-star hotel in the center of Montpellier, France. The city is gorgeous, busy and HOT. I spent my first day wandering around la Place de la Comedie and the surrounding areas. I found the markets and beautiful cafes everywhere I went. After five hours of wanderings and two cafe-cremes in different cafes, I headed back to my hotel, where I had apparently booked a triple. That night I realized how dumb it was to spend my days in Montpellier alone, so I sent a message to one of the other assistants in Montpellier to meet up. The second day, I met a bunch of the other assistants who are placed all over the region, though most of them are living in the city itself. We went to a juice bar run by two crazy Frenchmen who are obsessed with Australia and walked around the streets looking for cooler clothes to wear in the 80 degree heat! I adopted another assistant into my hotel room and we went out that night to meet up with other assistants as well as some other international students from Dubai, Thailand, Malta and Mexico... we were quite the eclectic group. Everyone has been really friendly and welcoming!



Today, I did not do much but get my train pass and ticket to Marvejols. It seems like I am one of the only assistants who is not living in Montpellier, but I have been offered couches to sleep on and promised that others will visit me, especially once I have snow! We'll see how it all goes.

Tomorrow we are all heading to the beach as we are promised another 80 degree, sunny day! After that, I need to gather my things and prepare myself for the transition from a bustling urban life to the rural life. The headmaster at my school is picking me up from the train station on Monday and taking me to my housing, a room located in the middle school with a bathroom and no kitchen. If nothing else, this year is definately going to be an adventure.

What I'm Doing.

In just a few days I will be jetting off to France for the next seven months. As glamorous as this may seem, let me explain a little more. I am participating in a program organized by the French government that brings young Americans to France to be teaching assistants in elementary, middle and high schools. There are around 1600 of us in total dispersed throughout France and its territories. I have been placed in the Montpellier region, which mainly encompasses the western side of the Mediterranean coast, bordering Spain. Now, the part of this region that isn't on the coast? That's where I am. I am a two hour train ride north of Montpellier in a tiny town called Marvejols.

Marvejols. Population 5,000. A medieval, walled town, best known for its wolf attacks of the 19th century, or at least that's what wikipedia says. As a recent college graduate, I have learned never to trust wikipedia so I did a little more research. Marvejols is a beautiful little town that is as quaint as one can get! The town is actually situated near two national forests and the area is well known for its outdoor activities (rock climbing, hiking, kayaking, etc). Now I know the thought of me rock climbing might be slightly absurd, but I have to at least try to fit in with the locals.

As for fitting in? We'll see. I just finished packing my two suitcases tonight. I figured I didn't want to be lugging around two huge bags so I stuffed everything into one carry-on sized bag and one medium sized bag, needless to say my dad was impressed. In these bags are some clothes for outdoor recreation, of course, but more importantly are filled with 30 or 40 black, brown or navy shirts and at least 15 pairs of black tights. With bright blond hair, there's no way I will blend in Southern France, so might as well at least attempt to look the part in all black like the Frenchies. We'll see.

So, on September 22nd, I leave the states, stop in Montpellier for a few days before I enter the world of rural France and I will be back in May. Any ideas for travel destinations? Let me know!