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.