It is also exactly two weeks since I arrived in France to
begin this crazy venture of mine, and I should probably note something down for
that university work I need to do. Maybe tomorrow.
You really cannot predict what is going to happen when you
do something like this. I think this is good though, and character-building. I
say this because I was beginning to rock along fairly nicely over here and, on
Friday last, was awaiting my parents’ arrival (they came to visit and to bring
me some things which were too bulky to carry myself) when I switched my phone
on at midday after classes to discover a range of messages from my mother
explaining that there was a problem with the car and although they were in
Bolbec, or somewhere near it, they were also in a garage of which they didn’t
know the location with absolutely minimal French, having slept on a ferry and
not having eaten since the night before. Oh blimey.
Eventually that was sorted and the staff there was very kind
even if the receptionist couldn’t understand my French on the phone (embarrassing)
and I spent a pleasant thirty-six hours in my parents’ company until they
headed back to Britain of Greatness. I rounded off my weekend with a calm day
spent in Honfleur, followed by a catch-up on Merlin and a nap.
Only I forgot until Monday morning that I was shortly (that
afternoon) to become sans Internet as
I was moving into my flat – because the French finally got round to fixing my
heating – and I had two articles to write and send to Exeposé (Exeter
University’s student newspaper) by midnight. Or not midnight, because I would
have no Internet by then, and more like 3.30pm, as I was supposed to be meeting
the Australian assistant at 4pm.
Well I got one finished fine, typed up on my own laptop to
avoid peculiar French keyboard-related typos and using the Internet on a
library computer – kudos to you if you have already spotted what I didn’t – and
about half of the second done before lunchtime, and still attended all of my
observation classes. It
was whilst I was in the middle of my multiple-coursed French lunch that firstly
I was invited to attend a special democracy-themed class at 3.30pm and secondly
I realised I had no Internet connection on my laptop, and no memory stick with
me either. Neither did Fanny. Damn.
I finished off the articles during the lunch break, attended
my final class of the day, went to the flat to do an inventory and returned to
school for the politics-related lesson, having somehow managed to push back
with Lauren our meeting time with no French mobile phone, credit on my British
SIM card, no Internet and no way of hurriedly finding out how to top-up abroad.
I say somehow, but I mean the ever-helpful, resourceful Fanny to the rescue
again. Then I hurried to explain in reception I’d be staying late, then to the
staff room to type up the articles on the French keyboard I’d tried so hard to
avoid in the first place and send them off at my last possible opportunity.
They might not even be published! It only occurred to me at 5.20pm on the way
to meet Lauren that the only option I hadn’t remembered was to pick up my
memory stick when I was doing the flat inventory… If only.
Today has been less busy but still enough. After a long,
long chat with Lauren for most of the evening, I awoke for the first time in
this flat to walk the forty-five minute journey to Gruchet le Valasse for class
at my second school at 10am. There had been some suggestion about maybe having
a lift from Lucinda, another English teacher there, but as I am currently
completely uncontactable unless you manage to get into the flat building and
literally knock on my door, I didn’t want to chance her non-arrival and then
being late. And I don’t understand the buses yet. Transport is a whole
different blog post on its own.
It’s a good job I did walk, as I arrived at 9.55am and found
Lucinda absent from school today, and that Laura had sent me a Facebook message
about something else that I hadn’t been able to read. Don’t take communication
for granted. The classes have been interesting to observe (one girl yesterday
concluded her paragraph with “she is tall and slim” so she is now my favourite);
I’m not allowed to teach until next Monday after my first training session on
Friday. I think I’ve also picked up a bit of a groupie already in the form of
one sixième (Year 7) student. Post-school, Laura and I went to set up my future
Internet connection which was a lot less hassle than expected, and did some
brief shopping (the phone company SFR is in the same place as the supermarket
Carrefour) so that I would have at least some food for a few days. Stupidly,
I’m not even hungry enough for a meal tonight.
After she dropped me back at my flat, I unpacked and
organised myself, and put up the rest of my decorations. I have to say, I’m
really happy with it. The flat is designed for the headmaster but he doesn’t
need it, and so it has been granted to me. But it is family-sized and therefore
so big that I’ve not switched my music off all night because it’s so quiet. I
won’t be spending all my time here on my own – three individuals could easily
live here. But, as they don’t, I can put up what I like and where I like. So my
flag, photos, cards and multi-coloured phone boxes are on the wall. The latter
not literally, you understand. The only real problem I’ve had so far is working
out the boiler and the heating (so an awkward shower tonight). I’ve either not
got the hang of it, or it’s broken again, but either way it brings me full
circle back to the beginning and the fetching dressing gown. You see, moms
really do know everything.
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