My Mercigiving Dinner

As an assistant d'anglais, part of my duty is to teach my students a little bit about American culture and society. I brought Thanksgiving to France by writing out the story of Thanksgiving, then leaving blanks in the story and having the students play Madlibs. Nobody really thought it was fun except me. ("More than 100 Pilgrims got on the bus, which was called the pencil, and set sail for classroom, a new world where they hoped to find socks and dogs. They brought with them only simple foods like children, cars, and shoes.") Most of my students are so resistant to anything stinking of imagination that they were hesitant even to fill in the blanks with the nouns and verbs we had come up with together. ("But, Madame, this doesn't make sense!" Uh, yeah, I KNOW!!! It's supposed to be FUNNY!) I'm sure the Pilgrims, at least, would be happy that I'm spreading their story.

Though my Thanksgiving venture flopped in the classroom, the day itself was a success. I celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with ten Americans, one Canadian, and my three English friends. We pulled together a pretty awesome meal, considering that most French people have never heard of cranberries and are clueless about the merits of sweet potatoes. I made lowfat sweet potato casserole, which everyone loved, and which no one suspected was filled with mounds of butter, three types of sugar, and whole milk. (If you're gonna do it, you may as well do it right, right?)

Being so far from my family--and on my favorite holiday!!--was sad, but our gathering proved that the Thanksgiving spirit was still alive. Sharing food somehow brings out the best in people.

Later, we decided to play a game of Catchphrase; to start off the game, we had to form teams by counting off "one, two, one, two..." We didn't even get halfway around the room before everybody got confused and we had to start over. In the noise of everyone trying to tell everyone else whether they were on team 1 or team 2, someone shouted out, "And we're teachers!!" Yes, we were a roomful of college graduates, and we couldn't even count off by twos. I'm going to blame that one on the wine.

I'm a gladiator

These are photos of our weekend trip to Trier, where we explored the local gastronomy (apfelstrudel and beer, hee hee) and history (Trier claims to be the oldest city in Germany, and they even have Roman ruins to prove it). We visited an old Roman amphitheater, where Lauren's boyfriend and I finally duked it out and settled our differences.

The Romans would have been proud.

La Belgique

After visiting Stijn, my English roommate Becky met me for a day in Brussels, where we shamelessly ate our way through the city. Unbelievably (why am I even surprised?), there actually were Belgian waffles to be had on every street corner, sagging under the weight of bananas or berries, oozing with chocolatey sauces, and topped with mounds of whipped cream. We got our gaufres aux bananes et chocolat and plopped ourselves right in the middle of a huge, beautiful plaza, along with the other young backpackers--all of whom were also sprawled out on the cobblestones, equally absorbed in their waffles.

Museum, you say? What's that?

Les Vacances

I didn't think I would deserve a two-week vacation after having taught only one week of classes, but I was wrong. After a hellish class with a group of students that basically didn't even know I was in the room they were so busy having their own conversations--and during which the teacher (who I think is a bit burned out on teaching) simply sat resignedly in the corner, watching the spectacle--I welcomed the holiday with open arms.


First stop: Rotterdam! I visited Stijn, a friend I met on the Camino de Santiago this summer. He spoiled me with REAL homecooked meals (including homemade apple pie), a comfy apartment that actually felt like a HOME, and lots of cups of tea and hot chocolate. One day, he said to me, rather seriously, "You know, while you're here, you really ought to take advantage of the bathtub."

Yes, it was a rough trip, but somebody had to take it.

The photos are of Stijn's lovely apartment, the beach in Rotterdam, and Amsterdam, where I took a daytrip one day while Stijn was working.

Julie Comes to Visit!

Imagine my excitement at seeing my long lost German sister, Julie, ascend the stairs at the Thionville train station ... it was so wonderful to see a familiar face! As soon as Julie arrived, we took care of some urgent business: catching up over a couple of chocolate ice cream cones.

Julie and I decided that, as much as small town like Thionville has to offer, we wanted to explore an entirely different country altogether--like Luxembourg (which, conveniently, is only a thirty-minute train ride away).

We stumbled upon an "appelfest"--bet you can guess what that means--which featured live big-band music and a family of apple-growers who were pressing apples and making the juice right in front of us. We bought a bottle of juice, found a bench, and passed it back and forth like two hobos. Then we topped off our apple experience with a slice of homemade tart.

Sunday we hung out at a café, took a stroll by the river, and went with my roommates to see a very melancholy and existential French film, which none of us understood. What a lovely weekend!

A Rose Among Thorns ... Ha

Allow me to paint a picture of the high school campus where I live and work: The hallways and courtyards are swarming with students, most of them dressed in black and smoking cigarettes with a just-you-TRY-to-teach-me-something attitude.

It's hard to blend in when my wardrobe consists of varying shades of red and pink, and one lone black article of clothing. Add that to my red hair, and I am a walking bullseye. Loud remarks in broken English are lanced at me from every direction.

The students are proud of themselves when they cleverly manage to put to use the only English phrase they know (Good MORNing! Hello!!), and sometimes I humor them by yelling back, which tickles them to no end.

Yesterday I heard "Kate! Kate!" from a student who tells me hello every time I pass him. I always say "How are you?" and he says "I am fine," and that's the extent of our relationship. This time, though, I decided to take our encounters to a whole new level. "Do you have class now?" I called to him.

He hesitated, and then called back, "Fine! How are you?"

I am really getting through to these students.

Way to go, France!

For those of you who think that I'm just loafing around here in France, giving double-cheeked kisses and eating baguettes ... you're absolutely right! Although I do work a grueling twelve hours per week, I have had a few moments to enjoy explore what France has to offer, and I feel that it is part of my duty, through this blog, to dispel any stereotypes you might have had about French culture.

1. Do people walk down the streets carrying baguettes?
YES. Every day, I pass throngs of people with fresh baguettes tucked under their arms, headed home for lunch or dinner. Sometimes they're wearing berets, too.

2. Do people really give each other kisses every time they meet?
OH yes. This is big here. Even the teenage students at Lycée Colbert give each other kisses when they run into one another in the hallways. I often see a student approach a group of his friends, and it takes five whole minutes merely for him to make the kissing rounds.

3. Do people take their dogs with them everywhere?
You know those stereotypical pictures of French women coddling their French poodles? True, true, true. For your benefit, I've included two photos as proof. The one of the poodle walking down the street is obvious; in the other one, you can just see the head of the poodle as it sits sipping a cup of café-au-lait with its owner. I had to be very discreet when taking these photos.

There are more stereotypes I could address: Are there pastry shops on every corner? Do people ride old bicycles everywhere? Are French men overconfident in their charm, falsely believing themselves to be irresistibly romantic? etc., etc.

But who really buys into these blatant generalizations, anyway?