Preparing for Our Glorious Return to America (and the Birth of Jesus)

This evening we had the opportunity to experience something that I have never before seen in my lifetime (with the exception of plastic light-up dolls in front of churches). Of course I'm talking about a live action nativity play documenting (from what I could discern) how scantily clad Roman soldiers were unable to stop a procession of Carnies from setting off fireworks after the birth of Jesus.

The nativity play is a yearly tradition that takes place in Marcq-en-Bareoul which is the town just next to Wasquehal where we are living. The reenactment was conducted outdoors, in below freezing temperature, with steadily falling snow, on a horseracing track called the Hippodrome. We were invited by the British family that we are living with, and it was quite a surprise to see the immense turnout by the French. There must have been over a thousand people watching.

We showed up just as the performance was starting so we were unable to get a seat in the bleachers, and were forced to stand in a crowd just in front of the actors. It was a very well put together event that included a lazer light show, Roman soldiers on horseback and in horsedrawn chariots, Mongolian camels, fireworks and an elephant. The whole show was about an hour long which was good because had it been any longer I think the soldiers and dancers would have gotten frostbite. They were obviously unprepared for the cold and snow because the Romans were wearing skirts and shortsleeves, and the dancers were wearing even less. Even being bundled up in two sweatshirts, two hoods, a winter hat and down coat, two pairs of pants, wool socks, gloves and a scarf, Im not sure Kathryn would have lasted much longer either.

All in all it was a good time with an entertaining soundtrack and devoted actors who shrugged off the cold without much problem. Another plus was that all of the audio for the performance was pre-recorded and played over the PA system so the dialouge was slow and comprehendable.

The rest of our evening has been spent cleaning up our room and getting clothes and luggage ready for our departure tomorrow evening. Really this entire week we have just been killing time and counting down the days until we return to the good ole US of A. Tomorrow night we leave on a midnight bus from Lille to London. Once we arrive in London we have about six hours before we have to be at the airport so we plan on getting some food and exploring what parts of the city we can before heading to London/Heathrow to catch our flight home to Chicago.

A très bientôt,

-Jordan and Kathryn

A Parisian's Paris

I have heard a number of different perspectives regarding Paris France. Some say it's overrated with too many people crowding the streets, peddlers trying to pawn off cheap replicas of monuments, and filled with overpriced restaurants and coffee shops. I have come to learn that’s just the superficial touristy version of a city that has much more to offer if you're lucky enough to see it through the eyes of a true Parisian. Yes, there were what seemed like millions of people rushing from one place to another, and an endless stream of tour buses dropping off gawkers at every street corner. The key is to try and see the big picture. These tourists are coming from all over the world. In the three days we spent traversing the city we could hear every language spoken from American and British English to Italian, Spanish, German, and a slew of Asian languages that I’m not even going to try and differentiate. Everyone is trying to capture the history and romanticism of such a magical city in their own way, and with my friend Yann and his girlfriend Marion, Kathryn and I got a taste of what it’s like to be a true Parisian for the weekend.


Getting through Friday was a bit of a challenge (and required more than a few cups of strong coffee), but before we knew it we were reclining in our first-class cabin seats on our way to Paris. The TGV got us there in exactly one hour, and Yann and Marion were waiting for us on the platform. After quick introductions, we boarded an inter-city train towards the suburbs to drop off our baggage. It was great to see my old friend again especially since my last trip in 2007 was mid-week, and he worked a majority of the time. The ride was quick, and highlighted by some drunk guy one car over yelling at the top of his lungs about nothing in particular.

Yann’s Mom was waiting up to greet us when we arrived. In true “Mom” fashion she had drinks and a little chocolate gateaux waiting for us (I was looking forward to the opportunity to talk with his parents because during my last trip my French was rather poor compared to now). We chatted for a bit while Yann changed from his work clothes, and then hopped in the car and drove to a little bar maybe 10 minutes from the house. We had a comfortable spot, but unfortunately ended up sitting just below the speakers that were blasting American dance hits from the late 1990’s/early 2000’s. We had a couple drinks while shouting back and forth across the table to each other in French. We left the bar just before closing time to get home and crash a bit “early” (~1:30am) so as to be prepared for the next day’s adventures.

Saturday we slept in until about 10am, and woke up to find Yann’s parents had gone to a patisserie, and gotten us a breakfast spread of croissants, pain-au-chocolates and some kind of brioche baked with chocolate chips. That plus a couple soup-bowl sized cups of coffee got the day started off right, but we were urged not to overindulge because we would be eating lunch about two hours later. Yann’s Mom cooked us up the best meal we have had in France so far, for our dejeuner. We started off with salad and creamy fois-gras spread over fresh baked bread which was picked up from the bakery just before the meal started. That was followed by a perfectly cooked tender roast beef in a sautéed mushroom sauce, accompanied by potatoes aux gratin, and of course a bottle of red wine. I had to stop myself after my second helping knowing that we had a long day of walking and sightseeing ahead of us, and I needed to be able to move after the meal (that ability came under serious jeopardy even without a third piece of meat). After the main course they brought out a dish with four or five different specialty cheeses on it and another loaf of bread. Finally to cap it all off was the chocolate gateaux covered with homemade crème-anglais. This was all to make sure we had enough energy for the day, but in actuality I think by the time we finished everyone at the table was ready for a mid-afternoon nap.

Having only the weekend for our trip there was no time to rest, and soon after we finished lunch we hurried over to the train station to catch the metro into the city. First up on our to-do list was visiting the Eiffel Tower, and the metro dropped us off about a block away. It was a great place to start our tour, but apparently that was the plan of every other traveler visiting Paris because there must have been ten thousand people waiting in the lines to go up to the top. Luckily both Kathryn and I have already visited the top of the tower so we took the opportunity to stroll around the park surrounding it, and get a couple of good pictures. The only downside to this stop (other than the enormous crowd) was that for five minutes or so there was the strongest odor of spoiled sardines wafting through the park as we were walking. That didn’t limit our stay, and when we had enough of the Tower we headed towards the Champs-Elysée.

The next hour or so was spent snapping pictures of the Arc-de-Triomphe, and weaving our way between the crowds down la plus belle avenue du monde. Our destination was the apartment of Marion who by amazing chance was able to secure a place not 100meters off the Champs-Elysée. It was just a single room studio apartment, but she had a small kitchen and a bathroom, the rent was reasonable and the location was unbeatable. We hung out there for a short while before venturing back out onto the street to see the lights of the Christmas market glowing in the fast approaching darkness of the night. Along our walk we met up with one of Yann’s friends whom I met on my last visit. The five of us walked through the market together before he had to catch a metro train to meet his girlfriend.

By this time we had about made it to the end of the Champs-Elysée so we turned off the main road and Yann and Marion took us on an impromptu tour of the luxurious district that surrounded us. I’m not sure of the name of the area, but around every corner there were Bentley’s, Maybach’s and displays of the most lavish diamond and precious stone jewelry I have ever seen. We also walked past the illuminated Opera house and finished our walk at the Galleries Lafayette where the entire building was lit up with color-changing lights.

Next we took the metro back to Marion’s apartment. This was easier said than done because there were so many people cramming onto the subway cars. We almost missed our stop since the exit was blocked by an almost immoveable wall of passengers. Once we arrived, Marion prepared some fantastic aperitif’s to subdue our appetites, and we opened a few bottles of wine to pass the time before meeting up with friends at le Bar n’importe de quoi. This was the French imitation of a dive bar, but in actuality it was a pretty nice place. By chance we got a couple tables together just after we arrived, and throughout the night a number of Yann and Marion’s friends showed up. The music wasn’t too loud either and this was a great forum for us to practice more of our French. There was a dance floor in the basement, but we mainly kept to the upstairs bar area. The bartenders were friendly and enjoyed showing off their skills by juggling bottles and other tricks of the sort. It was a really great night, but when it came time to leave we ran into a bit of a problem.

Paris has the pickiest taxi drivers I think I’ve ever encountered. Honestly they could use a few more driving around in the first place because at least 90% of them already had passengers. The real problem came when we finally got a few to pull over. Yann’s house is maybe 15-20min outside of the center of Paris, and for the cabbies that was unacceptable. The first four or five taxi’s we talked to just sped away when they heard where we needed to go. Our next idea was to find a good looking corner and call for a taxi to come pick us up, but that was impossible because each time we tried all we got was a message that all the taxi’s in the area were occupied. Finally around 3:45am we finally convinced a very talkative Haitian cabbie to give us a lift back. This guy had an opinion on just about everything, but partly because of the hour and partly because he didn’t pronounce any of his “R’s,” we had quite a difficult time understanding him for the first 10min or so before we picked up on his accent.

Again we crashed hard as soon as our heads hit the pillow, and unfortunately I was not able to drag myself out of bed at 8am to go watch Yann’s soccer match (I would feel worse, but when he was staying with us in Chicago he was never able to get up for one of my football practices at 6am either so I think we’re even). We slept until about noon, and Yann’s Mom was worried for me because I missed breakfast so she made up for it at lunchtime. She cooked us another massive lunch starting with salad and a quiche aux poireaux, followed by spaghetti with a homemade creamy Carbonara sauce, then the cheese plate and desert of chocolate gateaux and crème-anglais, washed down with another bottle of red wine. Everything was expectantly delicious, and when we had finished she packed us a little meal for the train home with the leftover quiche, and some specialty butter biscuits from Bretagne.

Next we packed up our things, said goodbye and thanked Yann’s parents for all the amazing things they did for us, and went with Yann to the train stop. He was going over to Marion’s to nap since he only got four hours of sleep the night before. We took the train to Gare de Nord together, and said our goodbyes, then parted ways. We had about two hours to kill before our train back to Lille left so we found a nice little café outside the station, ordered some drinks, and relaxed while watching the people passing by.

It was such an amazing petites vacances we are already beginning to plan our return trip (I left my sunglasses there so we’ll have an excuse). After the weekend of late nights, large meals and constant conversation in French we were exhausted in the best of ways. Even with the crowds of what seemed like a million people strewn all along the Champs-Elysée we never felt like tourists, just Parisians navigating through the sea of foreigners. One last observation that was very apparent to both Kathryn and I was our ability to understand everyone we spoke with in Paris. Compared to the northern accents of Lille the French spoken in Paris is clean, crisp and comprehendible. We were able to determine our language skills are much better than previously thought; it just depends on who we are speaking with.

Just two more weeks of classes back in Lille, then a quick couple hours in London before catching our plane home to Chicago for the holidays.

A bientôt,
 
Jordan and Kathryn

Rosebowling to Paris

Today started quite a bit earlier for us. As you know (I hope) the Oregon Ducks played Oregon State in the Civil War rivalry game this morning with the winner going to the Rosebowl. After missing the USC and Arizona game, both described as two of the greatest Duck games ever played, there was no way we would miss this one. The only catch was that the game stated at 3am France time. In preparation for our early morning Gameday we both went to bed early. Kathryn hit it at about 5pm and I joined around 7:30. The alarm went off at 2:50am giving me enough time to get up, splash some water on my face, and turn the computer on. Kathryn finally roused herself awake just after kickoff.

Thanks to the wonders of Skype and the webcam on my Dad's computer we were able to watch the entire game live, and what a game it was! The Ducks most definitely did not disappoint or make us question our decision to get up. As usual they started off a little slow, and because of some costly mental errors that equated to turnovers in the Beavers redzone, the game was much closer at halftime than it should have been. We didn't let that, or a little prodding from Kathryn's Mom about the Beavers lead, get us down. I can confidently say that even with the less than perfect start there was never a second that I doubted the Duck's victory. (Final score for those that missed it was: DUCKS - 37 beavers - 33)

The game ended just after 6am. Kathryn fell back to sleep about halfway through the 4th quarter. Elated by the win and ensuing trip to the Rosebowl I was kept awake for a bit longer by my emotions were ranging from ecstatic about the win to a little sad that I was missing the celebration going on back in Eugene. Then I remembered I still had a class to teach at 11am.

Its been a great day so far, and right now Kathryn is just finishing packing so we can get out the door and to the train station to catch our 9pm TGV to Paris. We’ll be back Sunday evening.

Lastly I just want to again say Congratulations to my Grandma and Grandpa who celebrated their 60th Anniversary yesterday. I love you both very much.

A bientôt,

-Jordan and Kathryn

Tickets to Paris

After our lack of energy towards the end of our trip to Dunkerque it was pretty apparent that we could have used a little more rest the night before. That being said, today we met up after classes were finished to take the train home together, and to stop by the SNCF ticket booth at Gare Lille-Flandres hoping to change our departure tickets to Paris. In the essence of saving a little cash we originally opted to take a 7am train. This was partially based on the suggestion by my friend Yann that we come on Saturday morning, and the earlier the cheaper. Anyway we wanted the opportunity do check out the Parisian nightlife, and if we had to leave our house at 6am Saturday morning that definitely wouldn't have happened (redbull's are pretty rare and expensive here). So even though the expectation was to buy completely new tickets and lose the money we had already spent; we decided it would be well worth it (we just got paid).

By luck of the draw we ended up at the counter of a very helpful and patient attendant who was more than happy to do a little research for us, and find an inexpensive train for Friday night. Either he is really good at his job or just wanted to get rid of the confusing Americans, but within a minute he had two or three different options for us. The best part was he refunded the money from our Saturday morning tickets, and by tacking on only nine extra euros we now depart at 9pm and arrive just before 10pm on Friday night. Yann will be waiting to meet us at the Gare du Nord. The weekend can't come quick enough. Oh and another reason we wanted to get a late Friday train is because we are waking up at 3am Friday morning to watch the UO vs. OSU Civil War for the RoseBowl live! LET'S GO DUCKS!

Other than that, this week has gotten off to a good start. The weekend was uneventful and relaxing. Kathryn made a delicious roasted chicken and chestnuts dish, and I assisted with her desert; an unbelievable chocolate cheesecake (picture coming soon). Both of our classes were cut short Today so we were able to spend a little extra time togther this evening. I have my second training session for all the Lycée assistants on Thursday. I'm hoping for two things: The first is that it's a little more informative than the last rendez-vous, and second that the higher-ups aren't too uspet that I haven't played any of their goofy games or sang any songs with my students (what we learned at the last meeting). I just remember my teachers trying to get me to sing in both high school and college; I wouldn't wish that on the 18-23 year olds I deal with. Then again, since I only see 2-4 students at a time we could probably get a good round of "row-row-row your boat" going.

A bientôt,

-Jordan and Kathryn

Giving Thanks in Dunkerque

Our weekend day-trip to Dunkerque started off with a pretty tough decision. Take the 8am train that arrives in under an hour, or sleep in and take a later train that weaves through the countryside stopping in Arras, and arriving in Dunkerque almost three hours later? When we bought our tickets the early train was the obvious choice. Come 6am Saturday morning; we were starting to second-guess. After finally dragging ourselves out of bed we were dressed and out the door to Gare Lille-Flandres with enough time to grab a café and a petit-déjeuner for the ride.

The one hour ride passed relatively quickly and gave us a great view of some interesting little villages along the way. Unfortunately due to the hour I was not in a totally coherent state of mind so I can’t remember the names of these towns, but one had a very cool, medieval-looking city wall around it. Hopefully we can find out the name and spend a day there exploring.

The train made only three or four stops and before we knew it we were descending onto the platform and meeting our “tour guide” Joel. He is actually one of the English Language Assistants placed in Dunkerque. Thanks to the wonders of social-networking and Facebook we “met” Joel over the summer, as I assume most other Lille assistants did (he’s quite a celebrity amongst us), and when we told him we would be in his neck of the woods he offered to show us around.

First up on our agenda (as we had previously discussed due to the hour of our arrival) was to find somewhere to grab a grand-café and energize for the day. Unfortunately the place Joel had in mind was closed so we settled for an untested café around the corner. The coffee tasted of “le jus des chaussettes” (the French expression for coffee lacking in strength). However, it was strong enough to get the job done, and we were soon heading towards one of the few things this town has that Lille does not…the Beach!

Dunkerque is a very nice village with old churches and weekly town markets, but we have all those things in Lille too. Our goal was to have plenty of face time with the sand and surf. Joel did not disappoint. He told us that Dunkerque is quite famous for its ruins of old Nazi war bunkers set up along the coast to prevent the Allies from invading (lot of good that did). They were a good distance down the “boardwalk” of the town so we started off in their general direction while enjoying the scenery, shops, brasseries and dunes that lined the coast. One thing particularly surprising/unusual about Dunkerque was that while walking along the coast there was no salty, ocean-air smell like I remember from the Pacific coast in Oregon or the Atlantic coast in Kiawah. Maybe it has something to do with its proximity to England?

Joel had mentioned that we were in for a bit of a walk to view these bunkers, but we weren’t exactly prepared for the hike ahead of us. Luckily, other than about 5-10min of dark overcast clouds, the weather was sunny and warm, and the coastline was quite beautiful so the hour-plus journey passed without much notice. As with many other unprotected structures in France, the bunkers were covered in graffiti and in a rather run-down state. This of course is to be expected after 60 or so years of dune erosion and little to no maintenance.

We hiked all around the bunkers; peering inside now and then trying to imagine what it was like back in WWI and WWII when they would have been crawling with Krauts on high alert from what they thought was an imminent threat of attack from Britain (Joel told us that in actuality the Allies quite were aware the Germans expected a Dunkerque invasion. They stationed mock-battalions and inflatable tanks across the channel to trick them, and attacked at the beaches in Normandy). It was a great adventure climbing all around the headquarters of the German military, but was a little uncomfortable seeing as I was wearing dress shoes in anticipation of our social gathering that evening.

The beach walk and bunker exploration took up a good chunk of our day. On the walk back we stopped at a beachside restaurant for refreshments and crêpe aux sucre. By the time we made it back around Joel’s apartment we had just enough time to pick-up some drinks for the dinner, meet the other assistants living at his school, and head out the door to a Lille-Assistant Pre-Thanksgiving dinner prepared by a couple girls also stationed in the city.

The apartment we met at was being renovated so it was a little messy, and we were confined to the kitchen/dining room area. Even with the crowd of assistants everyone was able to find adequate space to eat. The food was ready when we arrived, and we chowed down on rustic salad with strawberries and walnuts, two kinds of potatoes (roasted and mashed), baked turkey breasts, stuffing, and covered it all with what looked like country-style gravy minus the sausage. I’m guessing everyone was as hungry as Kathryn and I because once the food was served there was about ten minutes of silence in the room of close to 20 people before the wine started flowing, and conversations picked back up.

Kathryn and I had been asked to bring some bottles of wine for the dinner so we decided to go with some of Carrefour’s recommendations. We brought two bottles of red, a bottle of rose and a bottle of a specialty hard apple cider from the Northern regions of France. Now I know it’s not very exciting to read about what we brought to drink, but I mention this for a very important reason. The highlight of my night came at the expense of the hard cider. Apparently in the hustle and bustle of transporting these beverages from Lille to Dunkerque they sustained periods of turbulence. This went un-noticed, and halfway through the dinner when Kathryn asked me to get the cider out of the fridge and pour a couple glasses, I didn’t think twice.

The cider is bottled in the same fashion as champagne, and as I slowly twisted off the metal casing, I failed to realize how much stress the cork was putting on it. As the metal tie was removed the cork exploded out of the bottle with a loud pop, missed cracking me in the head by mere centimeters (I could feel it nick the hair on my forehead), slammed off the 15ft. ceiling and bounced back off the top of my head. All I can say is it scared the bejesus out of me. The force of the cork coming out of the bottle easily could have knocked out an eye, or possibly broken my nose if I had the bottle positioned differently. My heart was pounding for a good five minutes or so after that one. The rest of the evening was spent drinking wine and getting to know some of the other assistants. Come 8pm Joel took us back to the train station so we could catch our ride home. It was a great day mostly thanks to our gracious guide and hosts (thanks again Joel). Also, since we spent the majority of the day walking to and from the bunkers we missed out on a couple of sights in the city center itself so we may have to make another trip out there sometime in the future.

Sunday was half spent recovering, and half spent wandering around the beginnings of the Christmas Marche going up in the Centre-Ville of Lille. They are turning on the Christmas lights that decorate the main streets. Garlands are being strung up between the buildings, and in the Grand-Place and Place de Thêatre they have erected a giant Ferris wheel, and a Merry-Go-Round. We have also been told that there is an ice rink in one of the squares, but we haven’t been able to locate it just yet. As we get closer to La Fête de Noël the streets will become lined with all types of vendors, and we are looking forward to going up in the wheel. It’s higher than the tallest church spire by a good 4 stories, and supposedly offers an unparalleled view of the city we call home. Let’s just hope they don’t charge 20euros a person for a ride!

A bientôt,

-Jordan and Kathryn

P.S. - Paris next weekend!

La Semaine Dernière

Surprisingly it took almost two whole months, but Kathryn and I finally witnessed our first car accident. We were walking home from the Carrefour after doing a little grocery shopping, when a car driving down the Grand Boulevard turned right, and cut off another car going straight through a green light. I say "surprisingly" because the French are not the most observant drivers in the world. They don't seem to be as bad/reckless as Greek drivers, but they have their fair share of problems (to put it lightly). They seem to have the biggest problems when they're required to make some sort of tactical decision. By that I mean they are fine going straight, but if they have to: slow down for pedestrians, or turn, or even just cross an intersection, you better keep your eyes open. Even if the cross-walk shows the little green man (signifying that it is ok to cross) that apparently means nothing to the French. That is why we figured the person to blame was the turning car rather than the one going straight. I'm sure this will be the first of many to come.

We also had our "visite medicale" on Friday to get a check-up, and be declared eligible for health insurance. Kathryn and I passed with flying colors despite the fact that Kathryn has been sick too many times to count since arriving (she's fine now). They gave us chest x-rays, measured our height and weight, and tested our eye sight. I guess they were a little surprised by how big and strong I am (the French are known more for their food than their athletes for a reason) because they also checked my blood sugar to make sure I didn't have diabetes (I don't). They didn't check anyone elses. Once we were given the O.K. we got our passports stamped and they glued in our "carte de sejour" so we are official French residents for this year, and entitled to all their social security benefits. It also means that we can come and go from the country as we please without having to jump through any bureaucratic hoops, and we will not have to notify our schools or the Rectorat before leaving to come home to Chicago for Christmas!

After we got all our paperwork filled out by the doctors, we took the tramway to Gare Lille-Flandres and purchased train tickets for our upcoming trips to Dunkerque (where we went this past weekend) and Paris (the first weekend in December). Dunkerque was so much fun. We did a ton of walking, and got to have a little Thanksgiving meal with some of the other language assistants teaching in that city. I plan on writing a seperate blog about that trip when I have a little more time to spare, and we get the pictures off the camera and onto the computer. Check back soon!

A bientôt,

-Jordan and Kathryn

Workin' Hard and Hardly Workin'

Compared to my job prior to arriving in France (~50 hours a week, all nights and weekends) this teaching gig is cake. That being said, it is getting a little more complicated now that I have run through all the students who actually know/want to speak English. Originally I was under the impression that classes would be mixed in terms of the levels of English spoken amongst the students. This assumption was made based on the first couple weeks of teaching, and the composition of the students that were sent to my room. Starting last week I have come to the realization that the teachers were just cutting me a little slack by sending in all of the best English speakers first. Some students (2-3 in each class tops) really have a knack for the language, and all the others have either subscribed to the notion that they are terrible and will never improve, or they just don't care. Some of the English professors have told me that many students do not see the point to learning English; their reasoning being that they never plan to travel to England. Therefore, many never show up to their language classes and fail, or they squeak by with minimum marks and are eventually denied job after job for not having the required proficiency.



Consequently I am beginning to have a new found respect for all those teachers that had to put up with me and my friends over the years. We were rarely the worst students in class, but there were a few that didn't exactly "capture our attention." Personally I could care less whether a student wants to learn English or not. What I do know is that they are required by the French Government to take the class starting usually at the Middle School level. To remind you, I am working with students currently studying for their electro-technical/engineering BTS exam. (A BTS exam roughly translates into a two year study program for: An Advanced Vocational Training Certificate) These students are between the ages of 17 and 24, and all of them have received their Baccalauréate (high school diploma). They have an AVERAGE of eight years of English study, yet many still do not understand me when I ask: "how...was...your...weekend?" Even if they don't understand the "how was your" part of the question week-end is the same in French as in English. I’m lost.


Now, I had some classes in high school and college that I struggled with mightily and therefore did not put forth adequate effort. These were mainly math based classes. But no matter what, if I was forced to take introductory algebra for EIGHT straight years I would eventually know what (x) equaled, and why they use letters instead of numbers! So...long story short...the past two weeks have been a little trying.


Lycée Baggio is divided into two departments: the technical school, and the professional school. At the moment I am the only English assistant, and I work exclusively in the technical school. This is why all the students I work with are: (1.) Studying for their engineering degrees, and (2.) All male. There are ten English professors that I am assisting, and last week they all wanted a piece of me. I probably worked 14 or 15 hours even though I can only get paid for twelve (It would be different if I was a European Union citizen). The heads of the program, who led our training sessions, have made it clear that it is "interdit" for us to do this because we wont be paid, but I really don't care. Every now and then I can put in an extra hour with a class if it will help out a teacher. New classes are the most fun anyway beacuse kids are excited for the opportunity to talk with an American English speaker (they don't seem to care too much for the British). Many times the students leading our discussions are the ones who never say a word in class. These are without a doubt the best since it gives me the opportunity to talk about Chicago, the U.S. and my interests (oh and almost every class has asked if I own a gun).


This week should be a little calmer. I am back on my normal schedule with the exception of Friday: Mon. 2-4pm, Tues. 2-4pm, Wed. off, Thurs. 9am-5pm (the toughest day due to a 4 hour break from noon to 4pm), and Friday normally is from 8am-noon, but we have been scheduled by the French Government to go see the doctor to get a check-up. This will complete the final stages in preparation to receive our FREE government/socialist/communist healthcare! I have also taken on a side project for one of the math teachers at Baggio. He wrote a paper, in French, on Numbers Theory (whatever that is) and was contracted by an English math publication to translate it. No, I will not be doing the translating. I have forgotten every math term I ever learned outside of the basics (addition, subtraction, multiplication and division). He has already done the translation. My job is to read through it, and make sure all the colloquialisms and sentence structures make sense. It's an easy read since each page is taken up primarily with mathematical equations (which I am not responsible to check), and I will earn almost an entire month's salary in extra travel income! All I can hope for now is that the dollar keeps crashing so that if I return to the States with any extra Euros I might double my money.


This weekend Kathryn and I are going to explore the town of Dunkerque on the coast, and meet up with some of the other English assistants there to put together a little Thanksgiving Dinner. We are very excited for the opportunity to do a little socializing with other English speakers. Also, for the first weekend in December we are taking a trip to Paris to see my old friend Yann, and explore the differences in Parisian nightlife and culture. Then it's home to Chicago! It is unbelievable how quickly, and slowly time is passing. We have already been here for a month and a half, and at the same time we have only been here for a month and a half. I can't wait to see what else is in our future. Where's Miss Cleo when you need her?

A bientôt,

-Jordan

Northern Hospitality

In the month or so leading up to our departure for Lille I had planned on cracking open my old French language books to begin brushing up. That never happened. I was too preoccupied spending time with friends, having every one of my favorite Chicago foods (that I knew I would have no chance of eating here in France), and moving all the crap from my apartment out from our front living room and into the attic. Before I knew it I was packed and on the plane to Oregon for one last slice of Americana before venturing into the unknown land of Nord-Pas de Calais France.



At the end of the summer our friend Benoit and his girlfriend Fanny came to visit us in Chicago, and I learned two very important bits of information. One was that there is still a significant amount of the eight years of the French classes I took rattling around in my brain somewhere; I just need to tap back into it. The second was that even though that knowledge is there, it wasn't near the level I would need to be at for living in France. I arrived in Lille a little apprehensive about my language skills. Of course the best way to improve is total immersion, and after only a month and a half here I can safely say we are both on our way to becoming as close to fluent as possible by the end of this year.


Kathryn never skipped a beat. Other than the very first day we arrived, when we were both too tired to even understand English, her French (to my ears anyway) is flawless. She is able to stand in front of 20-30 insane, out-of-control 7-10 year olds and conduct forty-five minute English classes almost entirely in French. I have tried not to default to her too often when we are out, but I do know if there is a word I don't understand or cannot remember she will have it for me. At the very least, I know I am better at French than almost all of the students I have been working with are at English. If they do not know the translation of some French word into English I usually have an answer for them (even though they ask each other and not me because the teachers all told them I do not speak French).


Our oral and comprehension skills have been greatly ushered along by the teachers at our schools. On my first day of class I was asked what language I would prefer to speak in, and of course I told them French because I needed to improve. So at school, when not in the classroom, I am compelled to communicate en Français. It has also helped because outside of the English department most professors at Baggio don't speak English, and while passing time between classes in the Salle des Profs I only hear French (and sometimes Spanish from the teachers in that department).

We have also done a little socializing outside of school with some of the teachers we work with. First was on Halloween night. Two of the teachers at one of Kathryn's schools (Rosée and Luc) invited us over to their home for afternoon coffee and conversation. Due to some poor time management on our part as well as an unnecessarily long bus trip to get to their house (they live approx. 15min away from us, but to reach their home by public transportation required at two hour journey into the heart of Lille to catch a bus that would take us back the direction we already came.) an afternoon café turned into our first real French social/culinary experience. I say "first" because Lille is not the most French of cities in the country. They have a very large Flemish influence and it has been surprisingly different from what we both remember French life to be like. This is of course because we spent the majority of our previous time in France in the South and the West of the country; things are a little different in the North.


It really was a wonderful evening. For one, there was almost no English spoken the entire night. In fact Rosée majored in Greek while in school and with my [very] basic understanding of the Greek language there was more of that spoken than English. They have two adorable kids, a son who is 7 and a daughter who is 3 or 4. Their son instantly fell in love with Kathryn, and spent the whole night trying to give her hugs and show her his school work and just all around get her attention. We started off the evening talking about music and cultural differences while sipping on a specialty beer from Belgium and eating a delicious homemade chocolate tart. Then we started talking about French food which eventually led to them inviting us to stay with them for a dinner of crêpes. Of course we accepted.


Dinner started off with an aperitif. Then they brought out a large skillet with six small indentations for "do-it-yourself" crêpes. They had a wide array of toppings that included: smoked salmon, ham, sautéed mushrooms, legumes in crème fraîche and little homegrown cherry tomatoes to top it off. As you can guess everything was scrumptious. Throughout the meal we become more confident in our French. This may have been because of our immersion or it may have had something to do with the free flow of wine throughout the evening. Either way we talked about everything from U.S. and French politics to the fact that when they visited England it was impossible to have alcohol as an aperitif. No matter what instructions were given to servers they always brought their alcohol with the meal. They could not understand this, "why would anyone want to drink [hard] alcohol WITH their meal?" they asked. After our dinner crêpes, the meat and veggies were removed, and replaced with homemade confiture of peaches and strawberries, sugar, and Nutella for our dessert crêpes. By the end of the night we were stuffed, exhausted and a little buzzed. Luckily we were still on vacation because when they finally drove us home we crashed in bed hard. They were incredibly nice and have already invited us back for an "authentic" French meal. I guess our impromptu crêpe feast was only the precursor to something a little grander that they have planned for the future. We can't wait.

Our second experience came just last weekend. One of the English teachers at Baggio invited us, and the rest of the English department, over to her home to experience real "Northern cuisine." This again was a fantastic opportunity for us to practice and improve our French, and at the same time get a taste of the specialties that have made this region famous. Once again throughout the night all communication was primarily in French. It was only after we finished off the fourth or fifth bottle of wine and champagne that Kathryn and I began to intersperse English into the conversation (not a problem since everyone there was an English professor).

As with Rosée and Luc, the meal started off with an aperitif, this time of crème de Cassis (a sweet black current liqueur) mixed with white wine or champagne. The first course of our meal was quiche. Actually it was three different quiches. One of a soft Northern cheese, another of different legumes and the third was made with endives. We all got one slice of each (the cheese one was the best). The main course was Carbonnade Flammand which is a relatively sweet stew of beef, beer, lots of onions, and some other vegetables and spices, which is then ladled over crisp pommes-frites. After the dinner was the salad and cheese course. The salad was good, but the main attraction for everyone at the table was watching our facial expressions as we tried the four different Northern cheeses. One was really good, another was decent, the third was edible and the fourth...well...they had warned us about the fourth. It looked similar to what Shrek pulled out of his ear in the first movie to make a candle except it was the reddish-orange color of Lava pumice soap. Even though four out of the six teachers at the table refused to eat it I'll try almost any food once (ex. lamb brains circa Easter '09). One tiny little bite was as far as I could go, and ended up choking it down using the rest of my salad and wine to help diffuse the taste. Kathryn discreetly spit hers out into the napkin. I think everyone got a kick out of watching us try that one.


The final course was dessert. We had a tarte aux pommes, an unusual but tasty brown sugar and cream tart/cake thing, and tiramisu du nord (which just meant extra rum). By this time the combination of food, drink and conversation in French had led to quite extreme physical and mental exhaustion for both Kathryn and I. Throughout the night I had understood maybe 70-80% of everything that was being discussed at the table (not word for word, but I got the gist), as well as participated in the conversations. Not anymore. Even after downing two espressos to try and get back in the game Kathryn and I were in food comas. Luckily the rest of the group was in about the same state. So, that was where were we said our goodbyes and were given a ride home. It was just a fantastic experience not only because of the excellent cuisine (all homemade) but because of the constant exposure to conversational French.


I cannot quantify how exactly my skills improved because of both dinners, but I feel like I gained a better understanding and comprehension of the language in those few hours than I did in the entire two years of French I took in College. It may not have had the biggest impact on my ability to speak, but I can now tell it takes much less concentration and mental straining on my part to understand my colleagues at Baggio. I’m sure improved oral skills are soon to follow.


Anyway today Kathryn and I are enjoying a laid back Saturday spent mainly working on this blog. We are also beginning to plan out some of our future vacations. We found very cheap bus tickets to London for catching our plane home to Chicago for the Fête de Noël. (We are very excited!) When we return we have a 19day vacation in February, and our plan is to visit La Fleche. That is the village where Kathryn spent her junior year of high school, and hopefully we’ll get to Bretagne to stay with Benoit and Fanny for some of that break as well.


And now, after spending the last couple weeks gorging on Northern French delicacies, Kathryn and I are preparing a little South of the Boarder special for tonight: Tacos and Burritos!

A bientôt,

Jordan and Kathryn

P.S. – I’ll try and keep these blogs coming a little more frequently from now on. This past week has been pretty exhausting with work at school. I’ll explain more in the next blog maybe tomorrow or the next day.

Amsterdam Part Deux (Beer, Museums, and Beer Museums)

Being in Amsterdam for a total of only three days, we easily could have spent our entire trip wandering around the city exploring the intricacies of each individual quarter. There is so much to see and indulge in just walking along the canals, or venturing off the touristy path. Coming to an intersection begs the question: left, right, or maybe just continuing straight ahead, and no matter what the final decision it seems there is always something interesting to discover around every corner and bend. This realization was made soon after our arrival. We decided to make it a point that we would not get caught up in purely the sensationalism of the cities ambiance, but to experience some of the touristy arts and culture exhibits also. This meant museums.



Growing up I was never one to get very excited about going to museums, especially ones entirely dedicated to art. In fact I can remember a specific moment in my childhood, while wandering around the Art Institute of Chicago on a fieldtrip, thinking: “Why on Earth would anybody use up their precious free time wasting hours wandering around a museum looking at paintings? They all look the same to me.” I have since (possibly in the last year or so) grown out of that mindset, and first up on our list of activities for Day 2 was the museum sector of Amsterdam located in the Northern portion of the city.

Well I should say it was first up on our to-do list, our real primary goal was getting some breakfast that in no way resembled the classic French: croissant and espresso. This was made slightly more difficult because we didn’t leave the hotel until about 9:45am. I thought we would be fine (for being on vacation this might have been the earliest I had ever been up and out), but in Amsterdam if you want a good hearty English breakfast you must be prepared to eat before 10am. We finally found a nice place in Dam Square. There was a little breakfast café situated next to a church/museum directly across from Madame Tussauds famous wax museum. The food was filling, and the coffee (like everywhere in Amsterdam) was aweful, but strong. On to the Rijksmuseum!


Three quarters of the Rijksmuseum was closed to the public for renovations. Not worth it for 20euros…On to the Van Gogh Museum!!

The museum was located in the middle of a large open grassy quad, half way between the Rijks and the Concert Hall. There were four floors each dedicated to different aspects of the painter/philosopher's work and life. The ground floor was filled with some of Van Gogh’s earliest works. His initial inspiration came from laborers working in the fields around the towns he lived in. His paintings progressed from individual worker portraits to action stills of their labor in the fields. This was his “Haystack” phase. Upstairs on the second floor was the real collection of the most famous Van Gogh paintings. It was the era when he started realizing his potential, and decided his legacy would be an expansive use of the color spectrum. This was the exhibit hosting works like his world famous paintings of the Sunflowers, as well as the painting of his Bedroom at Arles. As we wove our way around the exhibits and up the different levels we were accompanied by the story of Van Gogh’s life.

It was written in segments on the walls all throughout the museum, composed entirely of passages and quotes from letters sent between Van Gogh, and his family and friends. He was a very intriguing, passionate, and delusional individual. The third story of the museum was totally dedicated to these letters. They had hundreds of the original letters Van Gogh had written translated (he wrote first in Dutch then in French and finally towards his death in a combination of the languages) accompanied by little sketches and drawings that he included about pieces he was working on. This was one of the most interesting aspects of the museum because many of the sketches that he sent along in the letters have never been linked to known Van Gogh paintings. The top floor had a fantastic collection of artwork from artists either influenced by or influential to Van Gogh. This included Monet, Manet, Renoir, Seurat and a bunch of others I can’t remember right now. No cameras were allowed inside so we don’t have pictures of any of the paintings. While we’re on that subject though, something they did allow in the museum was my pocketknife which I had mistakenly forgotten to take out of my coat pocket and leave back at the hotel. The security guards warning, “Just don’t use it on any of the paintings.” I could only imagine if something like that would have happened in the States. I’d probably be blogging from the federal pen fighting charges of suspected “art/cultural terrorism.” It was a great way to kill a couple of hours, and experience some world changing artwork in the process.

Our next stop was for lunch at a little Japanese Sushi restaurant just a block away from our final planned expedition of the day. The food was good and cheap, rolls were half price and so was the beer. In fact it was probably some of the freshest beer in the city seeing as this restaurant was right next door to the Heineken Brewery. That’s right; our final guided excursion for the day was a “tour” of the Heineken Brewery. Well…it wasn’t exactly a tour of the actual brewery, but it was a museum about the history of the brewery, the beer and the Heineken brand.

We were also given beer along the way, one halfway through the tour along with a presentation about everything from Heineken quality, to tips on determining if you were given beer in a clean glass. Then we had vouchers attached to our admission wristbands good for two beers at the “museum bar” located at the end of the tour, what could be better? In fact I happen to think that is a brilliant marketing strategy for all museums. I would be much more adept to going to museums if I was guaranteed 3+ beers along the way. We learned all about Heineken: how they were started, why they expanded and began exporting, how the beer is made from the time they receive the ingredients through cooking and processing on to bottling and finally shipment around the world. It was an all around great time, and one of the best museums I have ever been to.

By the time we exited the Heineken Experience it was starting to get late so we headed back to our hotel to rest for a bit, change, and go out on the town. Our first stop was a Spanish tapas restaurant that we passed on our walk home. The food was decent, but way overpriced. Plus we were tricked into ordering items we were made to believe were on the 4euro tapas menus that in fact were not. This contributed to our bill being slightly higher than anticipated. We followed dinner with a long walk along some of the canals stopping every now and then at little bars to have some drinks and watch the people passing by. The night concluded with a midnight stop at a little Shoarma (it’s a cross between a kebab and a gyros) stand for a snack before bed.

The final day of our trip had, without a doubt, the best weather. All day the sun was shining and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. We spent our final hours in Amsterdam wandering streets we had yet to explore, coupled with extended pauses on park benches to relax and watch the crowds. Amsterdam has such an open society, it doesn’t matter what district or area of the city you’re in there will be an assortment of different personalities and cultures. Walking together in large groups were men and women in business suites, tourists on vacation (we heard many from France) hippies dressed like they were on their way to the Eugene Saturday Market, and every ethnicity you could imagine. The highlight of our last day in Amsterdam was one final stop to Bird Thais restaurant for two more helpings of chicken with red curry sauce before the four hour ride back to Lille, and our room in the Cook household in Wasquehal. We have already experienced enough to make this whole assistantship worthwhile, and we still have six months to go. I can’t wait to see what our future holds. It’s starting to look like a second year may be a part of it.

A Bientôt,
 

Jor and Kathryn

Au Revoir Lille, Hallo Amsterdam

The teachers at my school described French educational system as: working the kids to the bone for a month or so, and then giving them two weeks break to recover. Then starting all over again. I got a hint of this method from talking with the students. When I would ask what they liked to do for fun, they of course had varied responses, but each one ended with the fact that they never had time for leisure activities because they were too busy with studies and homework. I'm guessing that this vacation for All Saints Day was a little more deserved for the students than for Kathryn and I, but I'm definitely not complaining. Therefore, after approximately 20 or so hours of actual classroom work, it was time for our very first European vacation.

We had been discussing plans for our first vacation as far back as, well, probably June when we first found out that we would be getting a break at this time. We had kicked around a couple of ideas (Ireland, Spain, Italy etc...), but as it became more apparent that we would not be receiving our first paycheck before the break we decided on something a little closer to our home base. Amsterdam it is!

This was a rather last minute decision; we got our hotel and train tickets booked just two days before leaving. We had, total, about a four hour trip from Lille to Amsterdam, and we transferred trains in Antwerpen (it could have been quicker, but we got the cheap regular trains rather than the super-fast TGV). We got up early on Monday morning to eat some breakfast and pack because we needed to be at Gare Lille-Flandres at 10am to catch our first train. Public transportation in France is some of the most efficient I have ever seen anywhere in the world. If there is a posted time announcing the arrival of a tram or metro or train, there will be no more than a 1 min difference between the posting and the actual arrival. This was extremely important when it came to our train transfer in Antwerpen. We did not realize until about 3/4th of the way there that our train was scheduled to arrive in Antwerpen at 12:00pm, and the departure time for our train to Amsterdam was 12:04pm. Luckily, as I said, everything runs perfectly on time, and even though we only had 4min to get to the other tracks, we made it with about 45seconds to spare. Other than that slight complication (and the fact that we originally sat down in the 1st class cabin instead of the 2nd class, and were forced to move to a different car), the journey went very smooth, and we pulled into Amsterdam Centraal Station just after 2pm.

When we left Lille the weather was brisk but sunny. We were able to see, as we chugged across the Belgium countryside, the clouds rolling in and the rain beginning to fall as we got closer to our destination. When we finally got off the train there was a pretty consistent rain coming down, and as exemplified by the inordinate amount of windmills in the surrounding villages, the wind was blowing hard. We had brought our umbrellas with, but they were quickly put out of commission by the storm. Kathryn opened hers up only to have it instantly flip inside-out and snap a couple of the supports (this was not too unexpected as we only paid 2euors for them). Living in Eugene for four years, and for Kathryn in Oregon her whole life, there was no way a little rain was going to slow us down. The hotel we stayed at did not begin check-ins until 3pm. Our original plan was to wander around enjoying the sights until our room would be ready. The weather quickly changed our minds, and our number one goal now was to successfully navigate down the winding streets with unusual names, through the crowds of people, to our hotel, staying as dry as possible because we only brought one change of clothes each.

The reservation was at a hotel named the Rembrandt Centrum/Classic Hotel, and it was right in the very center of the downtown district. Even stopping at each street corner to try and find the street names and get our bearings, we made it from the train station to the hotel in about 15min give or take. That was a big relief. Also, as luck would have it, our room was ready and we were able to check in without a wait. The room we were given was up on the top floor of the hotel, it was very clean and we had our own bathroom (I know this sounds pretty normal to many of you, but if you had seen pictures and the reviews of some of the other hotels and hostels we were considering, this was much better than expected). The combination of the luxurious accommodations, with the location, and especially the price, I highly doubt we could have found anywhere better in the whole city.

We were both chomping at the bit to get out and do a little exploring regardless of the rain so we spent as little time as possible in the room. Kathryn had to fix her makeup, and I changed into dry clothes and put my contacts in so I could see while walking around in the rain; then we were back out the door. The rain slowed up while we were in the hotel and stopped soon after we left. We hadn’t really eaten anything all day except at croissant at the Lille-Flandres before we left, and Kathryn had some chips on the train, so our first stop was at a little bar/café just around the corner from the hotel. Kathryn was feeling pretty fatigued from not eating so we split a club sandwich with smoked salmon, which was good enough to hold us over while we searched for our dinner.

Our number two goal for the beginning of our trip was to get some Thai food for dinner. Now this was not just any Thai food that we were looking for either. For those of you that don’t know, this was my second trip to Amsterdam. When I was studying in Athens I had a 10 day spring vacation and I spent my time traveling between Paris, Amsterdam and Berlin. It was an amazing trip, but I only had about a day and a half there. The highlight of my trip in 2007 was my reintroduction to the world of Asian cuisine. I had been walking around with one of the girls from my program in Greece when she suggested we stop for lunch at this little Thai restaurant we passed. I was hesitant, but she convinced me. Now before this trip I never was a big fan of Asian food. It had probably been 10 years or so since I had last tasted Thai and my memory told me I didn’t like it. My perception changed instantly when the food was delivered. Not only was it the very best Asian food I had ever eaten, but it was one of the best meals I have ever had in my life. Therefore, I was determined on this trip to take Kathryn.

Now there were a couple of major obstacles standing in our way. I could not remember the name of the restaurant nor could I remember the location. The only details I remembered were what I had eaten, that we had eaten in the upstairs section, and that the servers wore bright-yellow, Asian print silky shirts. To say we had our work cut out for us was an understatement.


Our first couple of hours consisted of weaving in and out of different canals, looking in shops and stopping for coffee to perk up. Amsterdam is absolutely beautiful. Each street or canal is distinctly Amsterdam, and at the same time each has its own kind of personality. After wandering around for a couple of hours and getting a good bearing on the city and how to get around, we stumbled upon the Asian district. By this time we had burned off all the energy we picked with the sandwich earlier, and we were ready for dinner. Along the way we had been keeping our eyes peeled for any signs of Thai restaurants, but had been unsuccessful. I was pretty pessimistic about us actually finding the same restaurant I ate at before, and we decided that we would just walk until we found a Thai place that looked good.


Strictly by chance and a couple of random turns down interesting looking streets we came upon a Thai place. We had seen maybe three other Thai restaurants all day…Kathryn called me over to check out the menu…it looked slightly familiar…I looked closer, then peered in the window…there was a staircase in the back…then…a flash of yellow! We had found it!! I was beside myself, it was unbelievable.

The name of the restaurant is Bird Thais; there’s a yellow sign out front and it’s located about two blocks past the Red-light District in what is called Zeedijk. I had the Kai Pad Ped aka, chicken in red curry sauce with bamboo and long beans (same as two years ago), and Kathryn got the Pad Thai. They were both delicious, but the chicken and curry we voted was the best. The portions were huge, and being so hungry we left very little on our plates.


It was already pretty late so we decided to head back to the hotel for a little rest. The plan was to discuss if we would be going out any more that night, and what we planned to do the next day. We concluded it would be best to just get a beer at the hotel bar, and save up our energy for Tuesday.


Now seeing as this is starting to get a little lengthy, and we’re only through our first day in Amsterdam I will stop here, and leave you wanting. Stay tuned for Part Deux (I’ll probably post it tomorrow) which includes beer, museums, museums about beer, and a whole lot more pictures!

À Demain,

Jor and Kathryn

First week of teaching

The first week of teaching was definitely memorable. Mondays I teach at both Turgot and Malot. They are both fairly close to one another; it’s about a twenty minute walk. Both schools are in a “rough” neighborhood. Malot is surrounded by low-level income apartments, but is more open to the public than Turgot. Turgot is fenced in by steel bars and is accompanied by a security guard to provide “order” and act as a position of authority that the kids will listen to, as well as to let people in the gates.

Last Monday morning was my official integration into the normal school week schedule. I started with an early morning class at Malot. I was out the door by 8:15am and made it to the school in a little less than an hour. Once I arrived, an English teacher named Rosee came to greet me immediately. We chatted for a moment in French, and she led me up to her room on the third floor to meet the kids in her class that I would be teaching. The class consisted of 8 and 9 year olds. They all stood up as I entered and were not permitted to sit until the Maitress had given the okay.


The first thing I did to get the kids talking was to introduce myself and get the kids a good idea about where I’m from. I pulled down a huge map of the world and asked the kids if they could find the United States of America. Many believed it was next to Germany. They all laughed. A student eventually found it. Next I asked if anyone had some questions pertaining to my voyage from the U.S to France. They were very eager to ask as many questions as possible. The first class went great!


I had 5 classes to attend on my first day; 2 at Malot and 3 at Turgot. After teaching at Malot, I left for Turgot. The neighborhood consists of mainly immigrants from countries like Algeria and Morocco in North Africa. As I began the 20 minute trek to Turgot, cars honked, and men hollered at me. The icing on the cake was when a creepy man followed me for about 4 blocks shouting “eh sexy.” So at that point I felt completely uncomfortable, and pissed off that I would have to make this walk every week. The man eventually stopped when I yelled, “Arrêtez! Ca souffit maintenant!” (Stop, that’s enough) I later told my contact about what happened. She had taught at Turgot for 7 years so she knew the neighborhood; she suggested I buy mace. My schedule is not set in stone, so I am hoping that I can rearrange it so it won't be necessary to walk from one school to the other. There are Metro stops close to each of the primary schools.


The incidences along the way put a little pep in my step and I made it to Turgot in less time than I anticipated. I met the teacher whom I will be assisting the most. Her name is Natasha. She is really sweet and I am sure we will get along great! I went to the first class with her, initially to observe and then to introduce myself and teach a little. The class went great. The kids were a little wild but Natasha has an extremely loud and authoritative voice. When one of the kids misbehaved she would give them a little talking to, discussing the poor decisions they had made. The day had been very smooth up to that point; that all changed as I went to the last class I would teach for the day.


I went with Natasha who trades classes with other teachers since she is the only English teacher at the school. While I was with Natasha teaching the class, a different teacher went to watch over Natasha’s normal class. It went great until I had to go over to get the other teacher for her to return to her normal class. When I got to the class room, kids were screaming, hitting each other, and all sorts of nonsense. I was in a jungle of animals! The teacher got up and said they were just horrible. She left to get Natasha and discuss what the kid’s behavior was like. I was left alone with these crazy French kids. I was not intimidated though, at least not yet. I told everyone to get into their seats so we could sing a song. The class had been working on one during the week. They followed my directions, but not for long. A little girl, who is a trouble maker, slapped a boy right in front of me for no apparent reason. The boy of course ran up to tell on her. This then coincided with five other kids coming up to tattle on what the others had done. I lost it, after the entire class was screaming. I sat down at the desk and told the children that we were not going to sing the song because they were unable to behave. I continued by saying, "So we are going to sit and wait for your teacher with your heads down on the desks." I had to pretty much shout this, but they finally listened and calmed down until Natasha entered the class. Natasha is a really small and petite lady. She came to the front of the class and told the kids how disappointed she was in all of them. She then spoke to the girl (that had hit the boy) in front of the class, since the other teacher had specifically spoken to Natasha about her behavior. The lecture began with an overall tone of “you are incapable of life.” This was continued by how she can’t say she just doesn’t want to do the homework, life doesn’t work that way. She continued speaking to her about paying bills, and how she can’t just say no I don’t want to pay. The lecture ended that if you keep making these decisions you will end up on the streets alone. Just to keep you up to speed this lecture was given to an 8 year old. It was intense to say the least.


The bell rang and I finally got to leave. The security guard led me out of the school grounds. Jordan called, and after a long day I couldn’t wait to get back to him! We ended up grabbing a hot chocolate on the way home. Chocolate can fix almost anything in my book. Needless to say I felt much better and was ready for the next day of classes.


The week was smooth from there on out. I played a lot of games with the kids. I used flash cards to play games like memory, Bingo (to learn numbers 1-5), and Telephone to learn pronunciation of words. I really love this experience and am learning so much! I just hope I can keep coming up with new and interesting lesson plans for the kids. If you have any games or songs you remember learning when you were little let me know! Anything would help!


-Kathryn

Vacation Number One - Amsterdam

After a "grueling" two weeks of classes we have finally reached our first vacation for All Saints Day! We just finished packing and are about to head out the door to catch our trains to AMSTERDAM, check back soon, we will return on the 28th.

Lille Gastronomique

One thing that has not been lacking here in Lille is adventurous and delicious meals. We have been eating well to say the least. This is not only a result of the experienced chefs of Lille, but we have done our fair share of experimentation chez nous. We have put together some amazing French meals with a twist of Americana as an accompaniment. In our aforementioned blogs you have already been updated about our outings to the middle-eastern restaurant where we have met the entire staff as well as assisted the owner’s daughter with her English homework. Well this is now our favorite overall restaurant in the entire city. Its name is ELRIYADH, and besides the fact that it is one of the most inexpensive restaurants in the city, we have yet to get as much bang for our buck anywhere else. From our initial trip where I had a great kebab and Kathryn had a delicious crêpe au chocolate, we have since progressed to la viande. Our next visit was on Thursday when I was completely exhausted, and starving because I had been working from 8am until 5pm. I also did not have the opportunity to grab lunch because of some confusion with my schedule.

I met Kathryn in the courtyard of my school after she had finished with her initial observation class. We were so hungry and had no food left at the house so we decided to venture back. Before even arriving we had decided we would be getting an order of the Mouton, each, which is just a roasted leg of lamb shank on a plate full of fries and a petite salad. However, upon arrival we happened to turn one page further in the menu and stumbled onto the couscous portion. Here we found what was named the CousCous Royal, and it was a meal fit for a king. Of course we were obliged to order. Now this was not your ordinary plate of meats. This was a large bowl of couscous, a large bowl of sauce/soup to be poured over the couscous, and a platter of one of every meat they had on the menu. There was the leg of lamb, two Moroccan sausages, two shish-kebabs of chicken, onions and green peppers, two spicy meatballs, a leg/thigh of roasted chicken, and two of the hottest green peppers I have ever tasted in my entire life. This was all for only 17euros. We also ordered 1.5 liters of Fanta to wash it all down. There was so much food they had to pull over the table next to us just to get it all to fit. Needless to say we finished everything.

As part of our own culinary explorations, another night we put together our take on le steak-frites, sans frites. As you would expect, steak at a restaurant will run anywhere from 15-40+ euros, but at the Carrefour we got them for 5euros a pop. This was the centerpiece for our meal. I was in charge of the meat, and Kathryn made a delicious French version of haricots-verts. After boiling the green beans she quickly dunked them in a bowl of cold water, then sautéed them with bacon, diced onions and mushrooms and covered them in butter. They were the perfect side to our steaks which we quickly fried in a skillet and covered with sautéed onions and mushrooms. We washed it down with some wine. Unfortunately not all wine you buy in France is good, so next time we are going to have to shell out more than 2euros for a bottle. As good as the meal was, the real treat was the fresh apple pie Kathryn made (I helped peel and cut the apples). It was a real taste of home, and got us both longing for autumn in the States.

Today was a very long day for Kathryn, and it is for that reason that she has chosen to add her portion of the blog another time. I can tell you right now that you will be very entertained. Also we went out for a very nice French meal at a little brasserie just off the Place Rihour. We both had le Magret de Canard en bleu (‘nuff said).

À Demain,

-Jor and Kathryn