.
Saturday, 4 February 2012
6:53 PM
Snowing. The talkative French woman with the big hair is gone... one or two of the teenage guys are still there, so's that girl with the headphones in.
"There aren't any buses."
Shit.
2:26 PM
Okay, tickets to Grenoble, now how much for Lyon - oh, wait, I need to go back and trim the scene where Murphy persuades Kyle - ...Gah, I need to take advantage of the opportunites. Been in this apartment all week. "Opportunities" - hate it when Mom and Dad use that word... Ahh, they're right - I go to new places, but I just do the same old tourist thing, while - oh, look - Ellen just added more photos to that skydiving album -
Gah! Forget it. Where are the movie listings? 'The Artist', 3:30 in Mouans-Sartoux, take the bus at 2:50. Yup. Done.
6:20 PM
"Bonsoir, monsieur."
"Bonsoir - do you have a room for tonight? One person?"
"One person?"
"What a day for the trains to be on strike, right?"
"Alors, une personne... Sixty-five euros."
"Sixty-five..."
"Oui. Shall I book it, monsieur?"
"Euh... I'll be back. Merci!"
Sixty-five... do I have a choice?
4:00 PM
Student discount with my old ID on the last ticket - YEUSS! I don't care if this is the worst seat in the house - this is a cool movie! Nice visual storytelling, good music - actually, this may be the first silent movie to have the same soundtrack everywhere it's distributed... Yeah, I guess back in the silent era it was all whoever played piano in the individual theater- Ba ha ha! That dog playing dead...!
5:34 PM
Look, just because the big-haired French lady said the buses are cancelled doesn't mean she knows what she's talking about - I mean, her husband pulls up in their car, blasts the horn, and she turns to us wondering what that wacko in the red Renault is going on about.
Who else we got here... girl with the headphones, teenage boys huddling together but still trying to look cool - it is freaking cold in the Riviera this week and I don't know why.
I tell you, if they cancelled the buses for this, I am gonna' be pissed. It's flurrying! We're talking less moisture than a light rain. The question is, can I walk back to Grasse?
*Sigh*
If it were lighter out, maybe... and if I had a water bottle. But it's only gonna' get colder...
...Is that a bus?
5:35 PM
No. It's not a bus.
11:15 PM
"Mmm ! Tug ['Toog'], this is delicious! Thanks again for inviting me over, you two!"
And I'm not usually this big a fan of beef bourgignon.
"Oh, pas de problème ! It's nice - we don't know anyone in Grasse..."
Nice couple, these two. She looks different without the headphones.
"...And, after all that," she continues, "it's good that we had an opportunity to talk!"
Amen, Louise.
6:52 PM
Of course the trains are on strike today. Don't even have the number for a taxi, which I didn't think I'd need, 'cause no sane organization shuts down a bus over a few flakes of snow! Yet, here I am standing in the bus lane watching the oncoming traffic for something tall with scrolling text in its windshield -
"Excusez-moi, monsieur?"
- and I'm this close to paying 65 euro for a hotel room, more for dinner, and the bus tomorr- oh, it's the girl with the headphones.
"There aren't any buses."
Shit.
"Ah, OK. Merci, madame. So, how are you getting home?"
"Euh, my boyfriend looked on the internet, and he saw there are no buses..."
Yeah - great day to 'take advantage of the opportunities'...
"...and he called me a taxi to go back up to Grasse, but it's going to be very expensive."
"Ah, I see... How much, if I can ask?"
"About forty euro, I think."
...
Well, it's not skydiving, but...
"Interested in splitting it?"
Showing posts with label nonlinear storytelling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonlinear storytelling. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
A Disconnected Mess of an Entry
First and foremost:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=edYHlnhxyOI
Now that your day has been brightened, hopefully you won't be as cross that I've got almost no governing principle behind this entry, other than a desperate desire to catch up with the present. Accept my apologies and (forthcoming) stories about adorable little French kids. Also, if you like, check out my updated photo album.
Since starting up again in January, I've introduced the weather as a unit of study. I had a lot of really good classes on it (although I'm getting the sense I need to either change my methods or move on to new material). I even dabbled in arts and crafts this time around, having them make more attractive versions of this thing:
Okay, so it's been riding around in my backpack a while.
But it's fun. They get to draw, they get to write the names of the weather, they have it as a study guide for the test I'll give in three weeks, and they get to turn it to whatever the weather is.
Speaking of weather... Beautiful for about 3 weeks. Then, today:
I had my first snow day in five years... which was fantastic. I want to take a minute to share my flatmate Erika's particularly French story about hers. She goes in, and half the teachers are on strike, half the students are missing because the buses are on strike, and then at 10:30 they close the school for a snow day even though there's no snow on the ground (yet).
French kids? French kids!
...
One day, one of the boys comes in with "an English song" on his flash drive that he wants to listen to it in class. "Oh, cool!" I think. Maybe this is like the kid in my oldest class who had lyrics and dance moves for 'Hello, Goodbye'. "This kid's really getting into English class, and maybe this is something I can use!" I take this kid's flash drive and look for the song. I find the song.
"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO.
...
Andy: "Today, it is chilly!"
Class: "Today, it is chully!"
Andy: "Chilly!"
Class: "Chully!"
...
Andy: "Hot and cold are opposites! Now, how is the weather today?"
Boy: "Today, it is opposite."
...
Andy (to one girl): "Chilly!"
Girl: "Chilly!"
Andy (to the girl): "What is your name?"
Girl: "Chilly! Uh, non..."
...
There's a little kid in the CP (ages 4-6) class who always goes to the bathroom around 9:55. I know because, on his way to and from, he spends a minute or two standing and watching from the hall just outside the space where I teach. Maybe it's me he finds different, but I rather suspect that that's how I looked when I was that age watching the bigger kids do what they do.
...
That's all I got for now.
Also, two good restaurants (mostly for pizza) that I've stumbled across in recent weeks (told you this entry was all over the place). Chez Xavier (in Cannes... more specifically, here) makes really good, reasonably priced wood-fire pizza in a charming setting that's secretly really close to everything. Second is Pizzeria Vesuvio, way over east in Menton (here) and thus close enough to Italy that any Italian dish you order will be good (same goes for the complimentary limoncello they served us after). Friendly service, too.
So, I put in to renew my contract for next year. Same region, unless they honor my request to transfer to Lyon (unlikely), but different town than Grasse, unless I don't have the final say in that matter (certain). I like being in France, working with the kids, having writing time (very productive, even if this blog doesn't show it), and riding out the storm of a tough job market back in the States. To my friends braving said hurricane, I wish you bon courage.
But I'm also doing it because I've learned a good deal of things, mostly from my students. Like this: next time you see lightning and hear rumbling afterward, don't be afraid, even if thunder usually scares you. Because, according to one of my kids, that's not a thunderstorm.
It's a flunderstorm.
-Andy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=edYHlnhxyOI
Now that your day has been brightened, hopefully you won't be as cross that I've got almost no governing principle behind this entry, other than a desperate desire to catch up with the present. Accept my apologies and (forthcoming) stories about adorable little French kids. Also, if you like, check out my updated photo album.
Since starting up again in January, I've introduced the weather as a unit of study. I had a lot of really good classes on it (although I'm getting the sense I need to either change my methods or move on to new material). I even dabbled in arts and crafts this time around, having them make more attractive versions of this thing:
Okay, so it's been riding around in my backpack a while.
But it's fun. They get to draw, they get to write the names of the weather, they have it as a study guide for the test I'll give in three weeks, and they get to turn it to whatever the weather is.
Speaking of weather... Beautiful for about 3 weeks. Then, today:
I had my first snow day in five years... which was fantastic. I want to take a minute to share my flatmate Erika's particularly French story about hers. She goes in, and half the teachers are on strike, half the students are missing because the buses are on strike, and then at 10:30 they close the school for a snow day even though there's no snow on the ground (yet).
French kids? French kids!
...
One day, one of the boys comes in with "an English song" on his flash drive that he wants to listen to it in class. "Oh, cool!" I think. Maybe this is like the kid in my oldest class who had lyrics and dance moves for 'Hello, Goodbye'. "This kid's really getting into English class, and maybe this is something I can use!" I take this kid's flash drive and look for the song. I find the song.
"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO.
...
Andy: "Today, it is chilly!"
Class: "Today, it is chully!"
Andy: "Chilly!"
Class: "Chully!"
...
Andy: "Hot and cold are opposites! Now, how is the weather today?"
Boy: "Today, it is opposite."
...
Andy (to one girl): "Chilly!"
Girl: "Chilly!"
Andy (to the girl): "What is your name?"
Girl: "Chilly! Uh, non..."
...
There's a little kid in the CP (ages 4-6) class who always goes to the bathroom around 9:55. I know because, on his way to and from, he spends a minute or two standing and watching from the hall just outside the space where I teach. Maybe it's me he finds different, but I rather suspect that that's how I looked when I was that age watching the bigger kids do what they do.
...
That's all I got for now.
Also, two good restaurants (mostly for pizza) that I've stumbled across in recent weeks (told you this entry was all over the place). Chez Xavier (in Cannes... more specifically, here) makes really good, reasonably priced wood-fire pizza in a charming setting that's secretly really close to everything. Second is Pizzeria Vesuvio, way over east in Menton (here) and thus close enough to Italy that any Italian dish you order will be good (same goes for the complimentary limoncello they served us after). Friendly service, too.
So, I put in to renew my contract for next year. Same region, unless they honor my request to transfer to Lyon (unlikely), but different town than Grasse, unless I don't have the final say in that matter (certain). I like being in France, working with the kids, having writing time (very productive, even if this blog doesn't show it), and riding out the storm of a tough job market back in the States. To my friends braving said hurricane, I wish you bon courage.
But I'm also doing it because I've learned a good deal of things, mostly from my students. Like this: next time you see lightning and hear rumbling afterward, don't be afraid, even if thunder usually scares you. Because, according to one of my kids, that's not a thunderstorm.
It's a flunderstorm.
-Andy
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
History Lesson
I really wish there was a funicular (uphill/downhill tram) in Grasse.
In fact, before World War II, there was one. For a little while afterward, as well, but then cars came along and people modeled towns around them, and since the recent trend toward public transportation hasn't sunk in yet... But, back in WWII, the Nazis stormed Grasse and destroyed the funicular. My question: Why?
I mean, never mind that anyone occupying Grasse (be they hostiles or recently turned 23) would benefit from a way straight up the hill. No, no -- why would the Nazis bother with Grasse in the first place? If they wasted their time and forces trying to occupy this town, then it's no wonder they lost. I mean, it's cute and all, but if you're going to be a highly organized, thoroughly terrifying regime occupying a small, innocent town, wouldn't you at least pick one closer to the water and less hazy? All I'm saying is that I can't think of that many wars that have been won by cutting off the enemy's perfume supply.
But that got me wondering... Why did French people bother with Grasse? In the first place, I mean. It's not particularly strategic, the slope precludes fertile farmland, and my sources tell me the perfume industry didn't start up 'til the middle ages. Grasse predates the Roman Empire. Why?
The answer is water.
As I've mentioned on numerous occasions, Grasse is a distance from the sea, so this explanation doesn't make much sense. But I've also mentioned on numerous occasions that Grasse is where you start to get into the mountains. Higher up in these mountains are springs that trickle underground through the mountain, but rarely pop up anywhere. It pops up in Grasse, so in the time before acqueducts, fresh water was a big deal.
As for the perfume? By the middle ages, Grasse had become a tannery town (a tannery is where you turn animal hide into leather, etc.). Well-renowned for it, even - serving nobility and royalty - but with one big, blunt problem:
The leather smelled like shit.
That's not just a turn of phrase: made in a tannery, leather is treated with animal droppings. I actually saw and smelled (smelt?) smelt this firsthand in Marrakesh, so it's true, and it's not just Grasse. Anyway, at some point, the brilliant idea was had to treat the leather with perfume to cancel the odor. It continues to work out very well, even if the tanneries that originally inspired this industrial development didn't.
Anyway, I thought this was cool.
-Andy
In fact, before World War II, there was one. For a little while afterward, as well, but then cars came along and people modeled towns around them, and since the recent trend toward public transportation hasn't sunk in yet... But, back in WWII, the Nazis stormed Grasse and destroyed the funicular. My question: Why?
I mean, never mind that anyone occupying Grasse (be they hostiles or recently turned 23) would benefit from a way straight up the hill. No, no -- why would the Nazis bother with Grasse in the first place? If they wasted their time and forces trying to occupy this town, then it's no wonder they lost. I mean, it's cute and all, but if you're going to be a highly organized, thoroughly terrifying regime occupying a small, innocent town, wouldn't you at least pick one closer to the water and less hazy? All I'm saying is that I can't think of that many wars that have been won by cutting off the enemy's perfume supply.
But that got me wondering... Why did French people bother with Grasse? In the first place, I mean. It's not particularly strategic, the slope precludes fertile farmland, and my sources tell me the perfume industry didn't start up 'til the middle ages. Grasse predates the Roman Empire. Why?
The answer is water.
As I've mentioned on numerous occasions, Grasse is a distance from the sea, so this explanation doesn't make much sense. But I've also mentioned on numerous occasions that Grasse is where you start to get into the mountains. Higher up in these mountains are springs that trickle underground through the mountain, but rarely pop up anywhere. It pops up in Grasse, so in the time before acqueducts, fresh water was a big deal.
As for the perfume? By the middle ages, Grasse had become a tannery town (a tannery is where you turn animal hide into leather, etc.). Well-renowned for it, even - serving nobility and royalty - but with one big, blunt problem:
The leather smelled like shit.
That's not just a turn of phrase: made in a tannery, leather is treated with animal droppings. I actually saw and smelled (smelt?) smelt this firsthand in Marrakesh, so it's true, and it's not just Grasse. Anyway, at some point, the brilliant idea was had to treat the leather with perfume to cancel the odor. It continues to work out very well, even if the tanneries that originally inspired this industrial development didn't.
Anyway, I thought this was cool.
-Andy
Friday, September 16, 2011
Life's a Beach
Author's note: There's a link in the next paragraph. Usually, these are bonus material, but this entry will make a lot more sense if you watch the first 35 seconds (or more, if you like).
Andy sits speechless in front of his computer at a breakfast table. A woman's voice bids him "Au revoir" and the Skype call ends. As he sits there, he is reminded of the opening scene of the Firefly episode "Trash."
Three Days Earlier...
Planned Itinerary for Tuesday, 13 September 2011 - Wednesday, 14 September 2011:
--6:25 PM U.S. East Coast Time: Check two bags, fly from Washington Dulles to London Heathrow.
--6:25 AM London Time (12:25 AM Washington): Land at London Heathrow
--7:45 AM London Time: Fly from London Heathrow to Nice, France
--10:30 AM France Time (9:30 AM London Time): Land at Nice airport, collect bags, take bus to nearby train station
--11:45 AM France Time: Take train from Nice: St-Augustin train station (it's one of three in the city) to Grasse
--1:00 PM: B&B proprietor picks me up from the train station in their car, drives me to the B&B.
--3:00 PM: After settling in, see Grasse.
Actual Itinerary for Tuesday, 13 September 2011 - Wednesday, 14 September 2011:
--6:25 PM U.S. East Coast Time: fly from Washington Dulles to London Heathrow. Sit two rows behind a shrieking baby, but take zen approach and fall asleep intermittently while listening to jazz.
--6:25 AM London Time: Land at London Heathrow. Scramble through newly refurbished concrete labyrinth behind slowpoke fellow passengers, just to get to a surprise second security check. Smile, panicked, as the 7:10 gate closing for the flight to Nice draws closer.
--7:00 AM: clear security and blitz to gate A21.
--7:05 AM: Reach A21, board the plane.
--8:06 AM: The captain updates the cabin that something is still wrong with the plane engine.
--9:00 AM: The captain updates the cabin that this plane cannot fly and that another one is waiting for us at the other end of the tarmac.
--10:30 AM: We depart for Nice on the new plane.
--1:30 PM (France time): We land in Nice. I wait at the baggage claim for my bags.
--1:31 PM: My first bag passes into view, and I put it on my baggage cart.
--2:15 PM: I fill out a missing bag form at the baggage services desk. The pretty French woman kindly informs me that, due to the delay on my flight, my second bag wound up on the British Airways flight arriving at 2:40.
--2:20 PM: I use the terminal's free wi-fi (which is, adorably, pronounced "wee-fee" here in France) to check my email and realize the B&B owner was waiting for me at the train station. I send a quick apology email to explain. I will take the 3:45 train and be there at 5.
--2:40 PM: I check for my bag, deciding that if it doesn't show up by 3:10, I'm leaving for the train and letting baggage services drop it at the B&B sometime in the next few days.
--2:41 PM: I realize my clothes for the next two weeks are all in that missing suitcase, but stick to my decision anyway.
--3:06 PM: I pick up my second bag.
--3:20 PM: The bus to the train station arrives, and I board it.
--3:45 PM: As my train leaves for Grasse, I am stuck on the bus with two suitcases as the bus makes every single stop in Nice.
--4:10 PM: I get off the bus near a different Nice train station and find I have 30 minutes until the next train, which will start the 75-minute trip about 15 minutes before the B&B woman goes to pick me up again.
--5:55 PM: I arrive in Grasse, attempt to follow my carefully written walking directions but get confused by the side streets not mentioned on Google Maps, as well as quickly changing elevations of roads. After asking for directions, I pull all 120 pounds of stuff to my name over hills (just hills, sadly-- they don't have dales in France) about a mile and a half to the B&B.
--7:00 PM: I arrive at the B&B to a very nice, understanding French couple, who encourage me to (quite literally) take a load off.
--8:00 PM: I join the couple for dinner: tasty homemade pizza.
--8:45 PM: I tell the couple that I should be up for breakfast at 8:30, apologizing again for the mixup today and hoping they don't think my life is a total mess for it.
--9:47 AM: I wake up and see the clock, which did not sound the alarm I requested.
--9:47:02 AM: "Shit."
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Despite my concerns, I got breakfast no problem. Like I said, the couple running this B&B is very sweet and had the following waiting for me anyway: baguette, cheese and ham, croissant and pain au chocolat, as well as orange juice, hot chocolate (at my request), and jam for any of the above. I ate and then answered a few emails, several related to finding more permanent housing, almost all of them pertaining to actually running my own life.
To appease my uneasiness about, well, that, I took it slow that day and spent it simply getting a feel for the town where I'd be teaching. Much of this was putting what I'd seen last summer in a walking-around context. (Part of "what I'd seen" is - and I'm not making this up - 'The B.O. Cafe'.)
Grasse is a pretty cute town-- lots of little winding streets full of soap and perfume shops (not bad for a local souvenir industry). The town boasts three big-time perfume factories, many standard stores, a movie theater, a live theater, and a fairly steep hillside setting about 45 minutes inland from the beach. I was actually more productive than I thought I would be; I picked up a few things, got a working SIM card for my French cell phone, and even visited a few banks and got some information about opening accounts.
Fellow assistants: If you want a good introduction to opening a French bank account, I highly recommend going to an LCL branch for information. Even if you don't want an account there, ask them to go through their online simulation with you. It's free, and it gives you a good idea of the various options available (as well as their quote for monthly fees). I believe you can also find this feature on their website, although I haven't looked.
Friday, 16 September 2011
Pursuant to a suggestion from one of my very friendly contacts in the regional school system, I called my assigned elementary school to schedule a meeting with the principal this morning as I had my breakfast. I thought it would be a good idea to introduce myself, arrange a visit before I start working there, get a sense of my duties, and ask for advice about housing, banking, paperwork, etc. I have paraphrased and translated the exchange:
WOMAN: Hello?
ANDY: Hello, is this the Saint-Exupery Elementary School?
WOMAN: Yes, indeed!
ANDY: Oh, good! My name is Andrew Weiner, and I'm going to be the English Teaching Assistant this year.
WOMAN: Yes...!
ANDY: I'd like to schedule a meeting with the principal, if that's possible?
WOMAN: Will you hold, please?
I hold. Children are audible in the background. It sounds like a school! Oh, boy!
WOMAN: Hello?
ANDY: Yes?
WOMAN: We don't need an English teacher this year.
ANDY: Excuse me?
ANDY'S INNER MONOLOGUE: WHAT?!?!?!
ANDY: Madame, I was placed at this school as an assistant. I just want to schedule a meeting with the principal to ask a few questions -
WOMAN: I am the principal -
ANDY: Ah.
WOMAN: All of the teachers here teach English themselves.
ANDY: Right, but I'd be an assistant. I was assigned here by the French government as part of the TAPIF program -
WOMAN: I understand, sir, but we don't need an assistant this year. You should talk to someone else in the administration - I think that would be best.
ANDY: Okay, thank you.
WOMAN: Goodbye.
She hangs up. The Skype window on Andy's laptop closes. Andy sits at the breakfast table, pensive.
ANDY: Yep... That went well.
Andy sits speechless in front of his computer at a breakfast table. A woman's voice bids him "Au revoir" and the Skype call ends. As he sits there, he is reminded of the opening scene of the Firefly episode "Trash."
Three Days Earlier...
Planned Itinerary for Tuesday, 13 September 2011 - Wednesday, 14 September 2011:
--6:25 PM U.S. East Coast Time: Check two bags, fly from Washington Dulles to London Heathrow.
--6:25 AM London Time (12:25 AM Washington): Land at London Heathrow
--7:45 AM London Time: Fly from London Heathrow to Nice, France
--10:30 AM France Time (9:30 AM London Time): Land at Nice airport, collect bags, take bus to nearby train station
--11:45 AM France Time: Take train from Nice: St-Augustin train station (it's one of three in the city) to Grasse
--1:00 PM: B&B proprietor picks me up from the train station in their car, drives me to the B&B.
--3:00 PM: After settling in, see Grasse.
Actual Itinerary for Tuesday, 13 September 2011 - Wednesday, 14 September 2011:
--6:25 PM U.S. East Coast Time: fly from Washington Dulles to London Heathrow. Sit two rows behind a shrieking baby, but take zen approach and fall asleep intermittently while listening to jazz.
--6:25 AM London Time: Land at London Heathrow. Scramble through newly refurbished concrete labyrinth behind slowpoke fellow passengers, just to get to a surprise second security check. Smile, panicked, as the 7:10 gate closing for the flight to Nice draws closer.
--7:00 AM: clear security and blitz to gate A21.
--7:05 AM: Reach A21, board the plane.
--8:06 AM: The captain updates the cabin that something is still wrong with the plane engine.
--9:00 AM: The captain updates the cabin that this plane cannot fly and that another one is waiting for us at the other end of the tarmac.
--10:30 AM: We depart for Nice on the new plane.
--1:30 PM (France time): We land in Nice. I wait at the baggage claim for my bags.
--1:31 PM: My first bag passes into view, and I put it on my baggage cart.
--2:15 PM: I fill out a missing bag form at the baggage services desk. The pretty French woman kindly informs me that, due to the delay on my flight, my second bag wound up on the British Airways flight arriving at 2:40.
--2:20 PM: I use the terminal's free wi-fi (which is, adorably, pronounced "wee-fee" here in France) to check my email and realize the B&B owner was waiting for me at the train station. I send a quick apology email to explain. I will take the 3:45 train and be there at 5.
--2:40 PM: I check for my bag, deciding that if it doesn't show up by 3:10, I'm leaving for the train and letting baggage services drop it at the B&B sometime in the next few days.
--2:41 PM: I realize my clothes for the next two weeks are all in that missing suitcase, but stick to my decision anyway.
--3:06 PM: I pick up my second bag.
--3:20 PM: The bus to the train station arrives, and I board it.
--3:45 PM: As my train leaves for Grasse, I am stuck on the bus with two suitcases as the bus makes every single stop in Nice.
--4:10 PM: I get off the bus near a different Nice train station and find I have 30 minutes until the next train, which will start the 75-minute trip about 15 minutes before the B&B woman goes to pick me up again.
--5:55 PM: I arrive in Grasse, attempt to follow my carefully written walking directions but get confused by the side streets not mentioned on Google Maps, as well as quickly changing elevations of roads. After asking for directions, I pull all 120 pounds of stuff to my name over hills (just hills, sadly-- they don't have dales in France) about a mile and a half to the B&B.
--7:00 PM: I arrive at the B&B to a very nice, understanding French couple, who encourage me to (quite literally) take a load off.
--8:00 PM: I join the couple for dinner: tasty homemade pizza.
--8:45 PM: I tell the couple that I should be up for breakfast at 8:30, apologizing again for the mixup today and hoping they don't think my life is a total mess for it.
--9:47 AM: I wake up and see the clock, which did not sound the alarm I requested.
--9:47:02 AM: "Shit."
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Despite my concerns, I got breakfast no problem. Like I said, the couple running this B&B is very sweet and had the following waiting for me anyway: baguette, cheese and ham, croissant and pain au chocolat, as well as orange juice, hot chocolate (at my request), and jam for any of the above. I ate and then answered a few emails, several related to finding more permanent housing, almost all of them pertaining to actually running my own life.
To appease my uneasiness about, well, that, I took it slow that day and spent it simply getting a feel for the town where I'd be teaching. Much of this was putting what I'd seen last summer in a walking-around context. (Part of "what I'd seen" is - and I'm not making this up - 'The B.O. Cafe'.)
Grasse is a pretty cute town-- lots of little winding streets full of soap and perfume shops (not bad for a local souvenir industry). The town boasts three big-time perfume factories, many standard stores, a movie theater, a live theater, and a fairly steep hillside setting about 45 minutes inland from the beach. I was actually more productive than I thought I would be; I picked up a few things, got a working SIM card for my French cell phone, and even visited a few banks and got some information about opening accounts.
Fellow assistants: If you want a good introduction to opening a French bank account, I highly recommend going to an LCL branch for information. Even if you don't want an account there, ask them to go through their online simulation with you. It's free, and it gives you a good idea of the various options available (as well as their quote for monthly fees). I believe you can also find this feature on their website, although I haven't looked.
Friday, 16 September 2011
Pursuant to a suggestion from one of my very friendly contacts in the regional school system, I called my assigned elementary school to schedule a meeting with the principal this morning as I had my breakfast. I thought it would be a good idea to introduce myself, arrange a visit before I start working there, get a sense of my duties, and ask for advice about housing, banking, paperwork, etc. I have paraphrased and translated the exchange:
WOMAN: Hello?
ANDY: Hello, is this the Saint-Exupery Elementary School?
WOMAN: Yes, indeed!
ANDY: Oh, good! My name is Andrew Weiner, and I'm going to be the English Teaching Assistant this year.
WOMAN: Yes...!
ANDY: I'd like to schedule a meeting with the principal, if that's possible?
WOMAN: Will you hold, please?
I hold. Children are audible in the background. It sounds like a school! Oh, boy!
WOMAN: Hello?
ANDY: Yes?
WOMAN: We don't need an English teacher this year.
ANDY: Excuse me?
ANDY'S INNER MONOLOGUE: WHAT?!?!?!
ANDY: Madame, I was placed at this school as an assistant. I just want to schedule a meeting with the principal to ask a few questions -
WOMAN: I am the principal -
ANDY: Ah.
WOMAN: All of the teachers here teach English themselves.
ANDY: Right, but I'd be an assistant. I was assigned here by the French government as part of the TAPIF program -
WOMAN: I understand, sir, but we don't need an assistant this year. You should talk to someone else in the administration - I think that would be best.
ANDY: Okay, thank you.
WOMAN: Goodbye.
She hangs up. The Skype window on Andy's laptop closes. Andy sits at the breakfast table, pensive.
ANDY: Yep... That went well.
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