Poor Pinky. She had a rough day, and now has to wear a cone so she doesn't bite at her leg. This may be the saddest I have ever seen any animal. I have a feeling Pinky will be too ashamed to leave the house now that I have posted embarrassing photos of her on the internet.
I started teaching this week, and I actually really enjoyed it! I am teaching at a Lycée (high school), and my classes have ranged from Seconde (16 year olds) to BTS (18+)
In each class, it was basically the same thing. The teacher would talk for a bit, and then I would go up to the front and introduce myself. I made a point to talk about California, since French people usually get super excited when you say you are from there. The reactions of the kids varied greatly. In the Seconde (15-16) class, the kids seemed to know hardly any english. However, they had sheets with questions they had to ask me, so the period went by smoothly . Then I had a Première classe (16-17) and it was like pulling teeth getting them to ask questions. I just stood up in front of the board, talking about California and praying that some student dare to ask a question. I did get asked whether I liked the Red Hot Chili Peppers in that class though, which was the highlight.
I had a similar experience in my Terminale (17-18) class. In that one, however, the teacher left me alone, so I started rambling about absolutely random topics as she left me in the classroom for WAY longer than the 5 minutes it should have taken to make copies. They stopped asking me questions way too soon, and I had to fill up the rest of the time talking about random topics. It was the most awkward experience of my life. The teacher came in, and there were random and drawings on the board: "awesome", "homecoming", a picture of the jaws shark.
The next two classes I had were BTS, which is for people who have graduated from high school but aren't going to go to a real college. It's like the french equivalent of community college or vocational training. The people are all at least 18, so I was essentially in a classroom full of my peers. The main difference between these classes and the lycée level ones were that these were filled with mainly guys. As a result, the class dynamic was hugely different. The guys got super into the conversation, and were actually really fun, particularly the second class. That was the class where a kid who reminded me exactly of Anwar from Skins said he would be my boyfriend if I needed one. I decided not to take him up on his offer.
In my free time, I have been trying to integrate myself into french society by taking various classes. The first one I am taking is a figure drawing class. It takes place in the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum, which is in the Palais de la Berbie, a medieval castle on the river that has beautiful vaulted brick ceilings. It does have a nude model, but that wasn't the weirdest part of the class for me. I was just sitting there thinking, I'm thousands of miles away from home, and somehow I ended up in a room in a 13th century medieval fortress in a class full of old people having art tips about the nude model I am currently drawing told to me in french. There were points when I literally had to stop myself laughing from the absurdity of it.
The little old ladies in the class loved me. They kept coming over to talk to me, and one kept saying things like "elle est si courageuse" (she's so brave) to the teacher. It was very sweet. I am personally hoping they will introduce me to their french grandsons.
The other class I am trying is yoga. While at the art class I could basically get away without using any of my french skills, for the yoga class I had to be able to understand what the instructor was saying. I did learn that "aspirer" is to breath in (like aspirateur- vacuum cleaner), but besides that I was pretty lost. It was the most painful when the instructor would come over to correct my position. Since I do not know specialized anatomical terms, this proved to be very difficult for me to understand. It got embarrassing near the end, when he just switched to english in order for me to understand.
On the apartment front, the place is coming together. We have a working washing machine now, which I am very excited to use. Our stove needs a gas line and a small gas tank (called a bombonne) in order to work, which terrifies me a bit. I have also fixed my bed after it broke, and unclogged my shower. I definitely feel a sense of accomplishment over all that we have done with this place. Slowly but surely, we are making it a home.
Bises!
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