Chapter 22 – Hey there Nancy Boy (hehehe)

October 28, 2003
So I finally managed to go on a trip; it has been a while! The rugby team had a game in Nancy (pronounced NAWNcee…okay, so I never did figure out phonetic writing) on Sunday, but a few of us decided to go up for the weekend (well, Saturday to Monday with a little help from vacation time…although a few of my students aren’t on vacation, so I had to be back to teach at 4:00). The trip is an interesting one: over the mountains…and I mean that. I must say, I haven’t had trouble with motion sickness in forever and a day (minus the 360s that my plane to Paris insisted on taking…you know, before we were hit by lightening) and there I was doing everything I could to keep my head and stomach from imitating the crazy spin cycle on my washing machine that often makes me wonder if the machine is trying to escape. Finally, we decided to stop…we weren’t far from the top at this point, but I knew the downward trip couldn’t be any better. Our first stop was at a restaurant in Fraize (like Fraise misspelled, which means strawberry in French…I thought that was cute). At first it was just to get some air and stop my head from spinning, but we decided to take advantage of the washrooms and perhaps get a drink. Even though there were customers in the restaurant, they wouldn’t open the door (it was about 9:00pm). I guess they didn’t want any new customers at that point, but they could have come to see in case it was something else. Anyway, so we drove a little farther, and came to a bar/restaurant. When we walked in, everyone sort of looked at us funny (ah, small towns) and one of the customers said they were closing, then went on (in a mildly drunken way) to say that he was just in the middle of a story and asked if he could finish. Jo asked where the bathroom was, and as I followed the directions they gave him, I heard someone make some comment about “oh, it’s for the lady!”. (ah small towns). When I got back from the (freezing cold) bathroom, the drunk guy (okay, he probably wasn’t the only drunk one of the 6 or 7 that were there, but he was the only one talking) starting speaking in a bad French Canadian accent. I impulsively closed the flap on my purse to cover the Canadian flag pin, and sort of laughed it off with my now all-too-often-used “I’m not French Canadian”. Jo seemed quite happy to get out of there and away from the drunken ramblings of, well, the drunken rambler. A few minutes later, we reached the top: 949 metres, but I forget the name of the town we were in at that point. What I do know, is that we also passed through a town called Bonhomme – ah smalltown France. The trip down was a little better, but at that point all I wanted was a little dinner and a lot of sleep.

The game: before the reserve team game (each city has two teams; Team 1 and Team 2, which is the reserve team, and generally each team plays one game each game day) the trainer from Nancy overheard my accent and asked Néro (who I was talking to at the time) if I was English (because apparently they have a couple of Irishmen on the team). When I told him I was Canadian, he said that he was too. I was more than a little incredulous, because he had anything but a French Canadian accent, but as it turns out, his father is French Canadian, and he did live there for a while (he has dual citizenship…I’m so jealous!). Anyway, since the game was about to start, and I was talking to the enemy, I headed up the field to “our” end. The reserve game started badly; the other team was super aggressive (Mulhouse is, apparently, known to be the aggressive team) and the referee seemed to be somewhat nuts: nobody knew why he was making some calls, and other fully blatant one slipped right by him. Apparently he even asked the captain of Mulhouse how to make a couple of calls in the middle of the game (ie. he’d already stopped play, but he wasn’t sure what do to next). In the end we one, and people were pretty pumped. The regular game started well, and held out well, until the last 15 minutes. At that point we were winning 20-9 but they managed two tries and a drop to win 23-20. Since the game was for first place (Nancy and Mulhouse had been tied up to then) there was much rejoicing on one side, and much disappointment on the other; in part because the ref was nearly as crazy at the one in the first game (but not quite). In fact, Nancy fans were acting more or less like they’d just won the championship (being first place in this league means advancing to the next league next season), but they’ve only played 4 of 14 games for the season, or something to that effect.

So it was a long several hours out in the cold for a rather disappointing end, and to top it off, I developed a killer cold (not unlike those I suffered here last year…why are they so much worse than the ones I catch in Canada?). On the bright side, the cold didn’t hit it’s hardest until later…After the games, Jo, Nero, Jerome, Cédric (Jo’s cousin) and I headed into Nancy for dinner. Shortly after we got into town (in 3 cars) Nero discovered that he was missing his wallet. So he and Jerome headed back to the stadium to (unsuccessfully) look for it. Jo, Cédric and I walked a bit so I could see the nicest “place” (sort of a city square thing) and then to find food. We ended up at a creperie, which was great (although I rediscovered that I really don’t like the salty meal kind (galettes), but they are more bearable with bacon! My dessert crepe was to die for; warm apples with a caramel sauce that is apparently a specialty in the North West: Bretagne (Brittany in English). The caramel was really too rich to finish, but it was balanced nicely by real vanilla ice cream, and I was in temporary heaven. Just as we finished, Nero and Jerome caught up with us (without the wallet unfortunately), and once they’d had a bite to eat, and a few Canadian beers (weird beers from Quebec, with 7.7% and 8% alcohol) we stopped at a store that was actually open (Hey Mulhouse people…imagine that; something open not only on a Sunday, but at 9:00 or 10:00 on a Sunday! And there were actually people in the streets and stuff!) to bring some drinks over to Camille’s (a friend of Néro’s where we were to sleep over). She and her boyfriend took us in, fed us (those of us that weren’t drinking) tea, and everyone settled in for some good conversation. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I curled up and went to sleep. It wasn’t too too long before everyone else did the same, and now that I’m all sick and stuff, I can see why my body didn’t want to stay up any more…it was really cold! I no longer take pleasure in the fact that it’s a few degrees warmer in Canada…I just want my health back!

Monday we made one last stop where Jo grew up (a cute, TINY, little town outside of Nancy) before braving the mountains back. There was an alternative route through a mountain, in a tunnel about 7km long, but it costs 6 euros (nearly $10Cdn) to take it one way. Predictably, my stomach couldn’t take it, and we stopped near a castle in Kaysersberg on the way back down so I could get my breath and some photos. Unfortunately I didn’t get any photos, but I have every intention of going back to Nancy anyway to see all that I missed; namely the fortifications that are now scattered throughout the city. It’s just so amazing.

We got back just in time for me to grab a quick bite and head up to my class. It went pretty well (although only 7 of 20 or 30 students showed) and I was ready to handle Tuesday. Unfortunately, Monday night and Tuesday I started getting really sick, and my Tuesday classes were rough. I ended the last one (an hour-long class) 20 minutes early to go home and sleep…for 3 hours. I hate being sick. Ah well, such things happen. At least my students for the rest of this week are on vacation so I don’t have to teach, but I do have a ton of work to catch up (and get ahead on) and zero motivation to do so. Next year I’ll be ready. I hope.

Back to the bright side: my landlord finally fixed my door (it took him all of 10 minutes) last night, so I’ve been warm all day in my room. Now to get my birth certificate translated and get my papers in order…

Chapter 21 – A taste of French culture

October 25, 2003
I went to a wine tasting last night. It was pretty cool; one of the wine stores downtown apparently does this regularly, and Libby and Dana (American and Canadian lectrices respectively) are more or less regulars at them. Their boyfriends are both visiting from North America too, so the anglos actually outnumbered the francophones! The owner of the store was really cool about it; everything he said was in both French and English. Now, the problem with a wine tasting, is that I don’t like wine. Before I came to France the first time I had hoped that I could develop a taste for it, but I still haven’t been able to. What I discovered last night is that I don’t mind tasting a wine, and if I were to spend a little more time trying I could probably identify all the bizarre smells they were claiming were in some of those that we tasted last night, but I just can’t drink a glass of it (yet?). Of the six wines we tasted, only one (the first one) was white. It sort of confirmed my belief that I prefer white (or rather dislike it less maybe). While we were there, I happened to notice that there was a bottle of Crown Royal for sale … for 23 euros (about $35.00CAN for a 750mL bottle). This led to two trains of thought: 1) “wahoo, there’s good Canadian Whiskey available here. This is important for two reasons: you can get Canadian whiskey at the grocery store along with every other type of liquor, but I’ve never heard of any of the brands, which I take as a bad sign, and twice I’ve imported Canadian Club, once thanks to my friend Cynthia who brought it when she visited last year, and once in my suitcase…both times the bottles were birthday gifts for friends of mine. I’ll get to the second train of thought in a second, because I have a tangent to go on: I never really liked Canadian whiskey before (I always thought my old roommate was insane when he would pour himself a full glass on the rocks when he was studying) but when I tried some (with Coke) when Cynthia brought it for Thibault’s birthday last year, I really liked it, and it helps that it’s a product of Canada of course! So I’ve developed a new appreciation for it. Tangent number 2: I figured Canadian Club had to be available somewhere, since the ads claim 130 countries or some such thing, and I couldn’t imagine France not being among those. So the second train of thought about seeing the bottle: “Awwww, 23 euros! I wanted a peanut!” (sorry, Simpsons joke). But yeah, $35 seems a little excessive. So with all my random thoughts in mind, once the wine tasting was done, I asked the owner if he knew where I could find CC (not because I think it’s better, because in fact I believe that Crown Royal is, but I’m hardly a connoisseur, but because that way I could price shop at least a little, in the hopes that CC and Crown Royal would both be cheaper elsewhere…am I right, by the way? Is Crown Royal the better choice – assuming prices are reasonable?). So anyway, when I asked, he told me there was one place I could find it for sure; the whiskey something-or-other…in Paris. Yeah, that’s a bit of a trip for a bottle of booze, on the other hand, it’s a lot closer than Canada, and a trip to Paris is hardly inconceivable (and doesn’t require crossing customs as a trip to Germany would, where I could also conceivably find it). He then, after some encouragement from his business partner (and wife) told me where to find the whiskey store in Mulhouse, but noted that their selection was not much better than his in the whiskey domain, despite that being their only product. Well, we shall see when I’m in town during business hours.

In the meantime, I have (fortunately!) developed something of a taste for wine (particularly in cooking, but not exclusively). It started with crémant (champagne that’s not made in Champagne) which is particularly good in Alsace. I soon moved to white (with a distinct preference for dry wines; I don’t like sweet ones most of the time, although I did try a Gewurtztraminer once that I really liked) and finally to reds (with a preference for Bergerac, which is amusing to me, since one of the villages called La Force from which my family might have come a few centuries ago is less than 10km from the city of Bergerac).

Chapter 20 – Why are they called “fonctionnaires” when they don’t seem to function at all?

October 24, 2003
Stupid Ontario government. I took for granted that my birth certificate (not the wee blue one, but a big legal-sized document with all kinds of family and birth-related information that costs a bunch of money and takes 10 weeks to get) would be in English and French (hey, the wee blue one is). So I apparently have all the documents I need for my carte de séjour, but first I have to get my birth certificate certifiably translated (okay really, how complicated is it really to understand things like mother’s maiden name?). I was also told that in future I shouldn’t come to the sous-préfecture on a Friday because it tends to be busy. Oh Puh-lease. They’re only open about 20 hours a week, and they close at 3:30 every day, plus I heard them closing the waiting room at 2:30 today so they’d be able to finish in time. It takes them a maximum of 5 minutes to check to see that you have all your documents in order (which you never do, no matter how much you think so) and there are two people work. I waited maybe 15 minutes for 5 or 6 people ahead of me before it was my turn. Ah civil servants. So next week it’s off to some other branch of the government to get my birth certificate translated, so I can bring it (along with everything else I’d already prepared) back once again.

I have since come to like the people at the “sous-pref”, because they are quite pleasant once you actually know what you’re doing, and you don’t argue with them. There are definitely worse civil servants out there, and I’ve had the misfortune of dealing with some of them. Lucky (?) for me, they don’t reserve the worst ones just for foreigners – some of the particularly unpleasant ones are just as much “at the service” of actual French people.

So since the walk was quite refreshing, I decided to stop at the grocery store that’s on the way home to pick up a few things (I’ve been really lazy/lucky since I have a car at my disposal if I time it right for going grocery shopping and such). I didn’t think I bought that much, but I remember why I hated walking home from the grocery store. Ah well. Anyway, since Halloween isn’t as big a deal here as it is in North America (it has recently been ‘brought’ to France, but it’s rejected by many since it has no basis in tradition here; it’s about as commercial as it could be, although it’s not as successful for that very reason) they don’t wait until after October 31st to start selling Christmas stuff. As I did my favourite stroll through all the aisles, I was picking out cookies, when I happened to turn around…and see half an aisle dedicated to most of my favourite cookies and treats that Denninger’s (the German store I worked at all through high school) sells at Christmas (aka, the ones we’ve been getting at Christmas since before I can remember). Sadly there was no pfeffernusse yet, but I’m sure there will be soon. Anyway, it comes as no surprise that such German things are in stores here, more that there in stores already. I debated whether to wait and buy closer to Christmas, but I decided to buy now and wait to eat (if I can handle that kind of self control).

Chapter 19 – Bye bye Mach 1

October 22, 2003
Mach1 is official gone. After a year and a half, Laurier has finally realized that I am, in fact, no longer a student, and has deleted my mach1.wlu.ca email address. If any of you still have it in your address book, please delete it.

Anyway, back to this side of the ocean: I’m starting to understand verlan! It’s French slang where a couple of the syllables in any given word are put backwords (or ‘a l’envers’ thus ‘verlan’ … the spelling of the verlan word comes more from the pronunciation then the spelling of the original word).

October 23, 2003
Okay, so I finally got all my photocopying and everything done, and got to the sous-préfecture at 4:00 this afternoon. Too bad it closes at 3:30. Ah well. You can’t win them all (ie. the fact that I had just paid for an hour of parking before discovering that). On the bright side, I only have a couple of classes next week, as most of my students are on holiday, so I have some catching up time, and I actually managed to do all the other errands that I wanted to today.

October 24, 2003
October 24th…and snow. Yep. You heard it here first; it snowed late last night, and there is actually still some snow on the ground! I guess I should get out there to take a couple of pictures…but it looks cold. Oops, and at a glance, the snow that was there half an hour ago seems to be gone. There’s a little left in front of my building thanks to the eternal shade (good in summer heat, bad as soon as it’s even remotely less than unbearably hot).

So I got out to my second ESV/ESSAIM party last night (the ESSAIM is the engineering faculty, and the ESV classes got moved to their building as of this year…it’s very cool that the two groups seem to be totally getting along; no bitterness at the ESV coming and taking over part of a building that belongs to a completely unrelated faculty (the faculties here aren’t as closely tied as they tend to be back home; in fact most are quite independent of each other). The parties are actually better this year, in part because they are on campus, making it easier for people to come, and in large part because it’s one of the rare occasions faculties socialize with each other. Not that they normally have anything against each other, but universities here just don’t have the same social life as back home…especially taking Laurier as the example. Of course for me, the parties have a whole different meaning; I would say half or more of the people that were there last night were my students. And given my circumstances, I would have been better off if it had just been students from the ESV (who are students of mine) and the ESSAIM (who are friends of mine), because both of those faculties are comfortable with me being there (it’s usually my students that are insisting I come). Instead, though, I had students from 2 or 3 other programs also there last night, which definitely changed the dynamics of things. As did the end of the night, when 3 or 4 of my ESVs were dancing on a table with their shirts off (all but one of the ESVs are guys, and I don’t think she generally comes to these…she probably spends enough time with these 40 guys the rest of the week). I will never see my students the same way again. Unfortunately, most of my non-ESVs looked quite uncomfortable at my presence, and I was equally so. The last party I came to I left good and early to avoid that level of discomfort, but this time I stayed late. I wonder what was going through their minds. Anyway, most of those that were there are also those that are on vacation next week, so hopefully they’ll just forget…yeah right.

Well, time for me to get moving and take another stab at the sous-préfecture…

Chapter 18 – Ca caille!!!

October 21, 2003
I’ve discovered the art to getting rid of milk skin. You know, the skin that develops when you heat up milk, and later surprises you rather unpleasantly while you’re quietly enjoying your hot chocolate? Well…I had already found one way, but it resulted in a bigger pain; I found that by tilting the pot at just the right angle, the hot milk would just slide out from under the skin, leaving it behind…stuck to the pot. That made for an irritatingly messy cleanup, but minus the unpleasant surprise while consuming that critical beverage that keeps me warm in my freezing apartment (I turn on the heat as infrequently as possible, since my door is STILL not sealed…my landlord was supposed to call yesterday…). Anyway; the effective way. Contrary to my previous belief, once removed, the skin will not redevelop in the cooling process (but I imagine that you have to remove it only right before/as you are taking the pot off the burner). The importance of this knowledge is simple: as long as you remove it at the right time; you win! And I just keep winning. As a recently addition to the substance abuse community (My name is Heather, and I’m addicted to hot chocolate and herbal tea) this is important…so the trick: really not a real trick, and I’m sure many of you were far ahead of me on this one…or else heating the milk up directly in the mug, and perhaps this could be useful…right, the trick; a fork or spoon, gently catching a bit will take all the rest with it, and can be dropped in the garbage. Unfortunately the result is something resembling, well, skin, hanging off your spoon/fork for the few precious moments between the pot and the garbage…and it doesn’t look to pretty in the garbage either. Of course, with herbal tea, the problem is avoided (unless there’s someone out there that prefers to make their tea with milk…). Anyway, an amusing to spinoff to this whole bizarre train of thought; when it’s really cold, one commonly used French expression is; “ça caille!” which was explained to me as referring to the forming of the skin on the top of cold milk as it’s heated from the bottom…although I just checked the internet for spelling, where I discovered that cailler means to curdle, so now I’m confused. Ah well…you figure it out.

In case you’re wondering, it’s cold in my room tonight. I’ve given in (yet again) and put the heat on, so I don’t freeze and die as I get out of the shower. There is also the handy addition of a radiator in the bathroom…facing the toilet. You’ll know how key this is if you’ve ever sat on a cold, ceramic toilet. Of course, the only time I turn it on is when I don’t want to freeze and die as I leave the shower, but once my door is sealed properly, I can take better advantage of that handy feature.

Cold. Cold, cold, cold. I must say, I have taken great pleasure in pointing out that recently it has been warmer in Canada than it has been here. I do enjoy dispelling myths, and not unlike in the US, the image of Canada here is simple: cold. It amuses me, while being somewhat worrying, that people know so little about Canada. I never realized just how insignificant the country seems to be to so many people. The real slap in the face came in my first week of classes, when I discussed stereotypes of English-speaking countries with each of my classes. Of those I heard from my students about Canada, the hardest ’stereotype’ to swallow was something to the effect of; completely unimportant at the international level. What was the word they used…I wish I could remember, since I think what they used was even more insulting (at least to me). But unimportant? invisible? That came as a bit of a shock. I had no idea. Of course, it is my personal mission to put Canada on the map…I suggest we take a big piece of the map…how about somewhere on top of the US? Anyway, now I’m just procrastinating. My students (and I) were informed this week that they would have a test in English tomorrow…good thing I’m in the loop! So I have to come up with a test, and a lesson, for my 4-hour class tomorrow afternoon. Fun, fun, fun.

Chapter 17 – Oops

October 18, 2003
I was supposed to meet one of my superiors at some kind of soirée for exchange students or something yesterday (I only found out about it a few hours beforehand, when said superior called to see if I was going). I completely forgot. He’s one of those people that you never really know with, so hopefully he doesn’t think I’m a total moron. I sent him an email (in reply to one he’d sent me about the fact that we hadn’t been able to touch base) at midnight apologizing for having forgotten. At least, if he wants more explanation, I have plenty of stuff to tell him about what was on my mind and why I forgot! I remembered up until about an hour before, at which point it completely escaped my mind, and I wouldn’t have remembered at all if he hadn’t emailed me. Ah well.

So classes are improving…I mean, it’s Saturday and I know what I’m doing in most of my classes this week, and even a couple next week (although I think some of my classes are cancelled next week for Toussaint holidays, but not all of them are in any case, so I don’t really know what’s going on). Unfortunately I’m not ready for the big one; the 4-hour one that is super difficult to plan for. I have tons of material from the last teacher, but I don’t like a lot of it, and it seems like I just keep going through the stack without accomplishing anything. I’m getting there though. I’ll try to take at least part of whatever vacation time I have to get ready, but I always seem to spend lots of time working without feeling any closer to being ready…although I am WAY more organized since I got a binder and some sheet covers (which are way more popular than paper with holes punched in it…more practical for photocopying too). I’ve got tons of articles and stuff that I’ve pulled off the ‘net too, but getting things sorted out and photocopied always seems like a huge challenge…you wouldn’t think so, but it is. And, in case that’s what you’re thinking, it’s not just me. I’m just lucky there are people who have been here for a year. I feel I should stay another year a) to be a resource for next year’s new people and b) to have all my own stuff ready, so I can take advantage of all the stuff I’ve put together this year…I make that sound like a bad thing, but in spite of the challenges, I do love what I’m doing, especially as students come around to my way of doing things (teaching here is super formal, so my way is a real departure from the norm for them) and a few have even expressed their appreciation, which is huge for me. I just don’t think you can learn a language if you’re not interested in what’s being discussed, so I’ve really pushed them to help me come up with topics, and bring in articles and such (a lot of my classes are simply ‘Langue Orale’ so all I’m concerned about is convincing them to show up to class, and actually speak). anyway, I’m just kinda rambling now, and I’m supposed to be coming up with stuff for the classes I’m not ready for yet…later!

Chapter 16 – Making a house (read: room with kitchen and bathroom) a home

October 13, 2003
I’m not sure if I mentioned the washing machine that a friend lent me as of a couple of weeks ago, but as of today, it’s functional! It presents an interesting obstacle, since it has to be in the bathroom in order to be hooked, and despite being just wee (I’m telling you, everything in France in smaller!) it takes up a good bit of space in my wee bathroom. It’s cool though…I don’t mind hand washing now and then, but in order to catch up, I would have had to do a couple of loads (read: bathroom sinks full) each day for a couple of weeks…I almost managed to do that when I first started doing everything by hand, but then I slacked…plus having to hang the dripping stuff in the shower until it stopped dripping so I could find new and creative ways to hang it all over the place to finish drying was getting old really fast. To help with that I bought a clothes rack last week, but that doesn’t solve the dripping clothes problem…thankfully the spin cycle should! And who knew what a pain imitating the rinse cycle could be…especially on sweaters??? I haven’t been able to wear my favourite sweater in weeks, because there’s just no way to wash and rinse that baby thoroughly by hand (sweet sweet oversized hoody). Anyway…problem solved! As soon as I get some detergent for colours (I must have bought the extra strong stuff, cause even when I’m hand washing in cool water, everything seems to be losing colour) I can do all my laundry…I’m amazed at how much these wee machines are designed to hold! One more thing we could learn from the French; space efficiency! Now I think all I need is some shelving…oh yeah, and a replacement fridge handle since mine broke off the day I move in, and I think I’ve taken care of all my furniture needs…at least until Christophe takes back what he loaned me, and I actually have to do real furniture shopping. I still want to get to IKEA one of these days…there’s one in Strasbourg, but another (apparently closer) just over the border in Germany. Now to steal a car to get there…

October 14, 2003
Okay…some random person just walked into my room. I’m not sure what she thought she was walking into, but that came as a bit of a surprise (to her too I’m sure). Well that was a new fun reason my room is bizarre…

Oh yeah, and I guess it’s past time to tell you that pictures of my place are up on my website: www.geocities.com/hkforce or www.geocities.com/heatherforce in the New section.

October 17, 2003
Well this is it; I’m caught up. Now what do I talk about? Well, this morning was a tough one; the administration decided to change one of my courses to a time I specifically told them I couldn’t teach it, EDF (Electricité de France) sent me two welcome packages (with two different customer numbers, suggesting that I had two different apartments), I became sure that I have pink eye again…things started badly. I went to the office to get some advice about the changed times, and called Gigi, the person I replaced, who seems to be an expert in dealing with such things. She told me more or less what I was planning to do anyway, but it was nice to get the venting out before actually having to deal with people. I called the electricity company first, since I figured it would be easier. It turns out, they’d already fixed that problem; that was a relief! I chatted for a while with another lectrice who had arrived in the office, then got my nerves together, ready to fight with the administration. There was no fighting necessary. I was shocked! I figured that since I had told them I couldn’t teach at that time, they would give me a hard time about it, but not at all. The hard part will actually come next week, because I know that the students didn’t want the only time that fit both my schedule and theirs’. I decided not to go to the sous-prefecture…when I realized that I didn’t have my passport with me; mildly worrisome, but not really. I had stopped carrying it with me all the time, but I don’t remember where I put it…plus I still have to go to the train station to get photos done (you have to give photos for everything in France, and that’s the nearest photo booth) and I just don’t have the motivation.

Jo called to let me know that Canada had a game (against New Zealand) at 11:30am (my time) in the Rugby World Cup, and I finally got out of the office at 12:30 to watch it. We got killed…68-6. Ah well…at least the other stuff got sorted out…except for the pink eye. fortunately I still have the non-anti-biotic eye wash things from the first time around, so I should be able to survive through it…and once my landlord gets around to sealing my door properly, I should be able to stop worrying (I suspect that the draft has been the main problem, since I carefully did everything to prevent re-infection, and since I found some literature to support my theory, I’m happy with that). Having finally remembered to give me the documents I needed for my residence permit (in my mailbox) he also left me a note saying he’d call Monday about the door (I think he gave me both keys for my place, so he can’t get in if I’m not there, with is both nice to know for those that are familiar with my last landlady, and unnerving, since if I lose my keys, I’m in trouble. Anywho…as usual, things are working themselves through, just more slowly that I’m happy with. That includes my ability to prepare my courses ahead of time. Trying to get a class ready more than a couple of days in advance is already a challenge, much less over a week, which is necessary to get photocopies (beyond my annual limited of 1500, which goes surprisingly fast, and I’m digging myself a nice little lack-of-preparation hole). There is one faculty that has not copy codes/limits, but inevitably the photocopier was out of ink when I needed it last, and busy printing 149 copies of a 55 document the time before (gee, you think the two events are related?). Plus, rumour has it they will be imposing codes soon. Uh oh. That being said, I should probably get some work done this afternoon to not lose the little progress I did make this week in terms of getting ahead…

Chapter 15 – Happy Thanksgiving! (okay…a little belated)

October 8, 2003
An email from my Aunt Donna tonight reminded me that I never got around to preparing for Thanksgiving. Okay, so technically I still have a few days, but my wee place, and extra wee oven really means that I won’t be able to pull off a Thanksgiving dinner, even for a few people. So my request, that will now be too late, but I’m dealing with it: I hope everybody had an extra helping of stuffing for me….I know, I know…there was be plenty to go around, since I wasn’t there to hoard it.

October 12, 2003
So, I missed Thanksgiving more than I thought I would (especially since I have to work tomorrow, and you guys don’t!). It makes me a little nervous for Christmas, but I think Christmas will be easier since it’s celebrated here (I don’t have to explain to people what it is!) and in a way probably very close to what I’m used to, thanks to the rather significant German influence in this region. I’m super excited about the Christmas markets especially, which are supposed to be just beautiful here. I never made it to a Kitchener Christmas market (I’d planned to do it this year…oops), but my guess is that it’s very very much like it will be here. As for updates, they are going to slow down considerably starting now…as I settle into ‘life’ here, the stories seem to disappear (or become less interesting perhaps?). It’s also a bit strange trying to write about life as usual (or take pictures of it, which is why there isn’t really anything new on my website). It’s not a trip for me anymore, you know what I mean? That said, things are going well with my classes; some are really incredible, some are tougher to work with, but I’ve certainly lost all remnants of stage fright, which I believe my parents and sister, Becky, will remember best from my acting class play gone-horribly-wrong when I was a kid (stupid forgetting your line while front and centre). I still don’t have (haven’t applied for) my residence permit, since although I got my medical certificate back, I forgot to keep a copy of my lease (which I need for some bizarre reason). My visa’s still good for another month and a half, but still…I gotta get moving on that! Otherwise, well…I can’t start my exciting battles with the rent assistance people until I have my permit…and I can’t think of anything else bureaucracy-wise. Oh yeah, and my pink-eye is long gone (yay!). I think that’s everything that was sort of outstanding in past stories…but I forget.

Chapter 14 – Oh my…it’s October!

October 2, 2003
Well…I made it! I’ve now met all of my students…and discovered today that at least two of them live in my building…d’oh! As is to be expected, I have some good classes, and some less good. In a pleasant surprise, I discovered that my in-class work week ends at 11:00am on Thursday (I had thought it was noon…okay, not a big difference, but always a pleasant surprise…although it means an hour less overtime pay than I’d been expecting…then again I don’t even know what my overtime pay is, so whatever.). Of course, starting now I have to do a TON of prep work each week, because I have 12 different classes, some of which have entirely different goals than others (ie. Economic/Business English for international biz students vs. technical translation for, well, technical translating students, vs. just random oral English courses). It should be fun a lot of the time though. I have some cool students…and some that are obviously very uncomfortable with my less-than-French approach to teaching – I’m far less formal…I hope I can find that balance between the French way and the Canadian way…I just think that to learn a language you have to speak it, and to speak it you have to be a) comfortable and b) interested, so I’ve asked each class what sort of topics they want to touch on throughout the year. They’ve made some cool suggestions! We’ll see how it goes…

Amazingly, I have turned on the TV all of once in the week and a half that I’ve had it. That can be explained in part to the fact of having the internet now…but only in part…I didn’t have it for the first week. So I haven’t been keeping up with my favourite bad French game shows, or my favourite American shows-en-francais…let’s be realistic though…I just can’t watch some of them in French…Simpsons, for example, just doesn’t translate (I saw a few minutes of it once last year) and the voices are all wrong. Ah well…I’m sure it’s a good thing to not be watching too much TV…but the news wouldn’t hurt now and then!

October 5, 2003
I turned the TV on briefly when I was waiting to go out, and was more than a little surprised to see 3 guys break-dancing in tutus. They even threw in a couple of ballet-like moves now and then…I don’t know…for authenticity or something…but it was really interesting! So THAT’S what I’ve been missing!

October 7, 2003
Here’s an interesting twist…after two weeks of my eyes getting progressively more irritated (I was starting to wonder if I’d ever get used to the smoke) I woke up yesterday (Monday) morning with eyes so red, that from a distance it looked downright creepy. I had 4 classes to teach though, and stuff to prepare before them, so I went about my day. First stop; the ESSAIM, where it just so happens that one of my groups has all their classes. Inevitably, I ran into several of them on my way in the door. They all said hello, but after I passed I heard “Elle a l’air très défoncée” literally; “she looks really high on glue” (but it’s generally used for hung over etc). Do I leave an impression or what! To make it kinda funnier, these are the same students that have the regular parties, and want their past and present teachers to hang out with them (at least those of us that are about their age). I felt like turning around to remind them I understood French, but ah well. I wasn’t actually upset by it – more amused by the reaction in fact. Anyway, next I had to go to the English office in the Arts building, where, of course, one of the girls I work with was also getting ready. Her reaction? “Oh my god, are you okay?” I explained that I was fine, despite the fact that it probably looked like I’d be crying hysTERically (eh, Aimee? hehehe). Unfortunately though, cancelling classes results a huge pain for everyone, so I couldn’t do anything until after 5:00. My students didn’t make any comments, but I can only imagine what they were saying after they left. during my break between classes (which actually falls after lunch…thankfully, or I’d never find anyone) I went down to the university nurse, who was as useless as when Aimee got sick last year. She looked at me, said I probably had conjunctivitis (pink eye) and she couldn’t do anything; I had to see a doctor. Then she led me into her office to write down my name/symptoms etc…so that she could what??? After my last class I headed for the nearest doctor, who, like all doctors, sets up in an apartment, sans-secretary. It’s really bizarre: you let yourself in, go into the waiting room, and he comes in after each patient to figure out who the next is. Fortunately people seem to be good about waiting their turn. Anyway, he was really nice. He confirmed it was conjunctivitis, but that it wasn’t severe, and gave me the appropriate prescriptions. I headed towards the nearest pharmacy, just hoping it was still open (it was now after 6:00) and it was. The lady that helped me was super nice, and at the end asked where I was from. When I told her Canada, she said “but Ontario, not Quebec, right?” I was impressed…granted I know she would have said that about anyone without a French Canadian accent, but it’s certainly the most intelligent response I’ve heard! Anyway, she proceeded to tell me that she was happy to know that there were nice people in Ontario, because she had taken a trip at some point, and found that everyone in Quebec was really nice, but nobody in Ontario was…including their tour guide. I was kind of upset to hear that, but she seemed genuinely happy to have met a nice Ontarian, so that made up for it (at least for me!). Anyway, my final stop (or semi-final I guess) was a co-worker’s place, where we were meeting before heading off to dinner. I must have spent half an hour or more in the bathroom (where everything but the toilet is, in true French form) trying to administer the eye bath thingy that I had, and then to put the drops in. The drops were a mini chemistry set in themselves; I had to mix together two vials of stuff (one liquid, one powder) just to prepare it…what ever happened to ready-to-use medication? Anyway, I was a little concerned about the looks I would get at the restaurant, but things seemed normal as we walked in. When I walked by a mirror, I was shocked that my eyes were white. I had become so used to them being red, it actually caught me off guard. By the end of dinner they were reddening again, by to others it may as well have been fatigue. I still have some time before it goes away, but the sense of relief at having medication is unbelievable. Anyway, I should really be getting ready for work now…time to face another bunch of people who may or may not care at all about speaking English…they seemed so motivated last week, but getting French people to class (with the exception of certain programs) is borderline impossible apparently.

Chapter 13 – Lucky Chapter 13

September 27, 2003
I finally got back to the Salsa last night, only to find that they’d changed their menu, and they no longer serve my favourite dish (in fact the only dish I ever ordered there, I loved it so much). The menu’s are much nicer…they’ve bourgeoisie’d them up a little…but I’m not sure how much the actual offerings have changed since I always got the same thing. Anyway, I considered ordering a filet mignon, but decided to try something new instead. When I asked my friend about the ‘escalope de volaille,’ he said I should try it…it did sound good (some particularly tender cut of chicken or turkey – in this case chicken in a ‘forestière’ sauce)…and he got the filet mignon. Both (I convinced him to let me try some of his) were unbelievable. Both were the best I’d ever had (okay, so that’s cheating…I’d never had escalope, but I have had filet, and never that good).

As it turns out, “escalope” is nothing more exotic than chicken breast, but I love seeing my comments now, and thinking about how silly they sound now that I know what I didn’t then!

I really really really need to learn some French cuisine. Oddly (at least to me) both were served with French fries…I realize that at nice restaurants in Canada fries are virtually always an option, but they are usually not the first option…baked potatoes are virtually unknown here though, and mashed potatoes are apparently less common than they used to be (according to a coworker I was talking to about this today), but I guess I would expect pasta or rice or just about anything other than fries! Anyway, despite being completely stuffed, I had to go for dessert…crême brûlée of course…I would kill and die for a good crême brûlée, and having had it at the Salsa last year, I knew they made it well…this time it was even better than I remembered. Reason #2 I need to learn how some French cuisine. Reason #3? All this talk about food is making me very very hungry.

September 29, 2003
It seems almost inevitable that I made it out to the Salsa…3 days before the rugby team kicked some serious butt and thus went to the Salsa to celebrate! It was a rainy day in Saint-Louis…but it wasn’t too cold, so I quite enjoyed it…it’s kinda fun just hanging out in the rain! I missed the reserve team game (which they won 61-0, including 4 tries by my friend, Hervé), but arrived just after the start of the regular game (which they won 25-0, including at least one try by my friend, Jérôme). It was a good start to the season! So first it was a little food at the Saint-Louis rugby club, then a few drinks at the Mulhouse rugby club, then finally the Salsa for a late dinner (the food there is SO good, but twice in 3 days is getting a little extreme…at least this time I went for one of the cheaper dishes…mmmmmmm tarte flambée…an Alsacian specialty! and no dessert this time!

I got home a little on the late side considering today was my first day of real work (ie. multiple classes). The first two went super super easy…10 people in the first (one hour), 3 in the second (one hour), and all with really good levels of English. The third was very challenging…36 students, 2 hours…and nobody wanted to talk. Next week it’ll break down to two classes of 18, but that won’t change the fact that some of them don’t seem to speak a word of English, and nobody wants to talk. My last one was sort of a balance; 17 people with a few willing to talk, and all with an interest in English (the big class is in English cause they have to be). Tomorrow will be another day of winging it (3 more groups like my last class…ie. same program, just broken into the 15ish person classes, and a 4th that is in first year English….the only arts class I teach). Wednesday will be the bigger challenge…A second class with one of the groups I had today (I don’t know what different stuff I’m supposed to talk about with them) and my second class with the salesmen (the fun 4-hour class that I started last week). I haven’t even glanced at their exam, or talked to the other teacher who will be taking half of that class. Oops. Then Thursday morning I would normally have 1/2 of the big group I had today (but not this week) followed by another class with at least some of them (Commercial English or some such thing).

Another later learning: “commercial” in French refers to sales (a salesperson is a “commercial” for example). I don’t know when I actually learned that, but I suspect (since I don’t remember) that I probably didn’t teach much, if any, sales-oriented English in that class. Oops again.

Ah yes, it is beginning in earnest. My week finishes nicely at noon on Thursday, so I can’t complain too much, but I’m now back up to 18 hours of class, which I’m told is a really heavy load (our salary covers only 10 hours, the rest I won’t get paid for until the end of my contract next August….that’ll be a pretty paycheque though!).