Tuesday thoughts from a Guest Blogger

Well it has been a couple of weeks since I brought forth my perspective on our time here so here goes.

Life without a car: It has been exactly 25 years since I haven't had my own vehicle. This hasn't been as hard as one would imagine with the location of our apartment. We have documented our convenient location and a car is definitely not necessary. There is the odd time that we have ventured out to the suburbs of Avignon to bear witness to the driving culture that we have left at home. Our Saturday afternoon trip to France's newest (and largest!) IKEA was one such excursion. Finding a taxi to bring home our Swedish treasures was no easy task.

Another Saturday trip found us 10 km from the center of town searching for the circus. As it was Saturday the bus didn't go to our destination which made for a 15 minute walk. We arrived at the circus tents only to find that the only way in was through the car entrance on the far side of the field (think huge drive in theatre with the entrance as far away from you as possible). We were in luck though as a locked gate had been bent to allow one to sneak in from our position. Through the opening slipped Grace, Lily, and Ginger. They were quickly followed by a father and son. It was then my turn. With various directions from Ginger (you need to go a little lower, bend that way etc.), I tried to force my way through the gate while mulling over the prospect of becoming part of the circus. "The one-legged guy stuck in the gate" act was not that appealing to me and I decided not to force it but instead take the long way around. I guess I have been enjoying french bread a little too much.

The circus was a bit old school with the girls enjoying the dancing tigers and balancing elephants.

Lost in Translation: I always like to get a haircut to feel comfortable in a new environment. I had my first french haircut about two weeks ago. I made sure that I was asking for my hair to be cut and not my horse but it did not go exactly to plan. I described how I wanted the sides cut short leaving most of the length on the top. Pas de problem! In life I have discovered that you really do get what you pay for as my 10 euro cut involved a #3 razor and my head. Instead of a nicely coiffed hairdo, I left the coiffeurs with the same cut he had no doubt performed around 20 times that day. Not a full buzz cut but certainly an Avignon special. 10 years ago this would have been quite the traumatic event for me with little chance of recovery but I have decided that looking like my brother Paul is not such a bad thing.

Life as a student: Transitioning from teacher to student has been pretty seamless and I do enjoy the life of a student. We have more homework than is ideal but it is definitely manageable. There is the odd time that I do question why I have given up the front of the class for a seat as a student. Yesterday was certainly one of those days. I have always prided myself on being laid back and overall a pretty calm, relaxed individual. Truth be told I have a bit of a temper that rears its ugly head every so often. We were sitting in the computer lab working away at some on-line worksheets. I was fine with the first couple but then ran into a snag with the third one. The snag was that the exercise was one that involved a grammatical rule that I didn't remember being taught thus far. When I asked the teacher if we had done it before, she replied "I don't know if you have done it before". She then proceeded to explain it in a fashion that didn't really work for me. No problem I thought, I'll just skip to the next one and learn the rule at home. It quickly became a problem for me as I was unable to skip to the next assignment. When I pointed this out to the teacher all I got from her was "that's strange". I was becoming quite frustrated and released an exasperated sigh. She then asked me if I knew the french expression for "sigh". I think that she could tell by the look on my face that I was searching for a different expression. After a couple of more attempts, I packed up my books, pushed in my keyboard and with my 17 classmates all looking at me I grunted something about doing the work chez moi and high tailed it out of class. It was certainly not one of my more mature moments but good for a laugh upon reflection.

Connections: It really is amazing how connected I feel to the people at home. Your emails and comments on line bring real joy to my day. Even though we are halfway around the world we still feel part of the community that we have left for the year. Thank you all for your best wishes and thoughts that you send our way. We appreciate it more than you can know.

S'miles and Scooters

For me, one of the most tiring elements of living in a foreign country is the constant underlying feeling that you are somewhere where you don’t really belong. Even without map in hand and camera hanging across your chest, you can’t help but feel different. The realization that you are no more than a long term tourist lingers in your head like a low-grade headache; not enough to keep you home for the day, but just enough to make you feel not 100% yourself. I can’t help but feel that people can tell by looking at me that I’m a long way from home, and that I’m not thinking in French like they are.

But on the more positive side, it doesn’t take much to make you feel just that little more at home and a little more relaxed. We have begun to get a few “bonjours” on our daily 3 minute walks to drop off and pick up the girls at school. The lady who owns the bakery less than a minute away now knows which type of bread we like and reaches for it as I walk in the door, and then smiles at the girls if they are with me, or asks about my “petites” if they are not. Being married to the most outgoing man in the world has helped. Thanks to Barry, the owners of a restaurant and cafe at the end of our street now shake our hands and smile warmly whenever we walk by, or stop for a coffee. The lady at the Casino (our nearest grocery store) cash asked if I wanted to join as a frequent shopper. I filled out a form with our Avignon street address and was handed my very own Casino “carte fidelite” allowing me to collect, not miles, but “s’miles”. So, just like hundreds of other real French people, Casino “s’miles” tags hang off of our keychains. And, the professors and other students at university are friendly and supportive in both Barry’s and my classes.

The transition for the girls is ongoing, but they too have had little experiences that have helped them feel more comfortable. Grace’s class was given a 3 stanza poem to memorize. Although Grace’s teacher said not to worry if it was too difficult for her, she memorized it all and got up in front of the class to take her turn reciting it. After she completed it successfully, the whole class spontaneously broke out in applause: she smiled for hours afterwards and her confidence has been stronger ever since. (I wanted to hug each and everyone of those children for the short but meaningful show of support!) Lily was thrilled this week when one of her little classmates greeted her the real French way - with a kiss on the left cheek, right cheek, and back to the left cheek.

Barry and I also helped the girls feel a little more like French children this weekend; we bought them scooters. This caused Grace to dramatically announce, “This is my greatest day in France”.

So tonight I'm feeling thankful for the small acts of kindness we have been shown, and for the 2 little pink scooters that are lying down by our door. S'miles, for sure!

Orange

We didn't subject Lily to any more modern art this week-end, but we did make her look at a really old wall. As you can see from Lily and Grace's short video above, we visited the only preserved Roman theatre wall in Europe (there are 2 others: one in Syria and the other in Turkey). It's located in Orange, a short train ride from Avignon. As is the "Arc de Triomphe" we visited, built to commemorate the Roman's victory over the Gauls in about 25 B.C. Both extremely impressive. It's hard to believe that they are still standing after so many hundreds of years. Naturally, using it as our base to play "Red Light, Green Light" was what impressed the under 10 crowd in our group.

Although 3 weeks ago I couldn't have imagined feeling cool here, Fall seems to be arriving in Provence. We got our first real feel of the Mistral winds that we have been reading and hearing about, and the beautiful blue skies they bring, during our visit to Orange. The word is that these winds that blow 50 to 90 km per hour for one third of the year are what drove Van Gogh to madness. I wonder what he would have thought about the months of grey and wet back home?

Allez! Allez!

Allez! Allez!

On Tuesday Lily had her first field trip. As Ginger has documented, Lily is still a little unsure about school so her teacher asked me to accompany the class. I jumped at the opportunity as travelling to the Children’s Festival with Grace’s kindergarten class last year was a real highlight for me. I was interested in watching Lily interact with her classmates, and in addition, I was very excited for the cultural experience that Lily and I would share. My day started with instructions in English from Lily’s teacher and I assured her that she had a professional on hand and there was no need to worry. My role was to be a traffic cop and with my crutches in hand my wingspan effectively blocked the narrow laneways. The sortie began with a 30 minute walk from one side of Avignon to the other. Shouts of “Allez! Allez!” rang out through the streets as the lead pair was pulled and the rest of the group was encouraged to catch up. “Vous marchez comme escargot” was the principal’s addition to the continual screams of “Allez Allez”. We arrived at the train station where the 25 students boarded the local TER for the 25 minute trip.

Upon arrival in Arles, a further 20 minute walk greeted our group of hardened pietons. Our first workshop took place at a historic building whose prior function had been to serve as the pumping station for the city of Arles. This involved a thirty minute architectural tour of the surrounding neighborhood. The group of 4 and 5 year olds were exposed to five key architectural features of the local church. Lily’s favourite part of the day was being introduced to the french word “gargoyle”. The gargoyles served as elaborate downpipes for the church’s eavestroughs with water pouring out of the gargoyles’ mouths during a rainstorm. In my class today, my professor informed me that the french expose their sutdents to a variety of architectural features and that all french 8 year olds are able to distinguish the differences between Roman and Gothic arches. I certainly witnessed this early introduction to architecture.

After lunch we walked 25 minutes through Arles to see the yearly photographic exposition. We went to two exhibits, one by the American modern artist Liz Deschenes and the second by a Japanese photographer, Kazuo Shinohara. The first exhibit consisted of four paintings: one black canvas, one white canvas and two canvases that reflected as a mirror. I particulary enjoyed the investigation of what our group of students saw in the white canvas (I was thinking along the lines of Calgary in December). The directrice, (principal) was particularly animated as she discussed the endless possibilities that one could see in the blank canvas in front of us. It was at this point that Lily leaned over to me and quietly whispered in my ear, “This is the most boring daycamp ever”. Certainly Lily has never been prepped at our dinner table on the appreciation of the abstract art form!

The photo exhibit provided for less abstract viewing, as there were about 30 photos of street scenes from around the world. The assignment for the class was to find similarities within the photos. After that, they were to choose their favorite photo and give it a name. Lily’s teacher came up to her and asked her in English what the name of her picture should be and after shrugging her shoulders three times in response to the same question she finally came up with “France” for a title. Well done Lily!!

We then left the expostion with a 30 minute walk ahead of us to catch a train that departed in 25 minutes. With panicked looks on the leaders faces, the shouts of “Allez! Allez! “were transformed to “Cours! Cours!”. We indeed arrived in time to catch our train, and on the train ride home the little girl sitting beside me said “Je vais bien dormir ce soir”, (“I will sleep well tonight”.) Arriving back to Avignon, the pace was much slower and relaxed as we returned to the school.

It was encouraging to see Lily interacting with her classmates as her behaviour thus far has had us concerned about what the days are like for her. Spending the day with her and her class has provided me with real insights into what she is going through. Firstly, her classmates are very interested in the Canadian girl that is in their midst, so making friends will not be a problem in the long term. Each time students were paired up, a new classmate would rush over to hold Lily’s hand. Lily’s frustration stems from her inability to converse with her classmates. I must say that once again my french confidence plummeted as I struggled to interact with Lily’s classmates. Each day she is utilizing new words so we know that this will improve. Secondly, Lily’s teacher is so kind and caring towards her. I now am competely certain that Lily is in good hands. During one exploration, Lily’s teacher sat Lily on her lap and translated the entire discussion for her. Lastly, Lily is tired! It is a crazy long day for her and no wonder she is struggling right now. She starts at 8:30 and school lasts until 4:30. Sure she comes home for lunch but she has 6 hours of French every day. I complain to Ginger about my long Wednesday schedule that consists of only 4 and half hours of classes in the afternoon and leaves my head spinning.

Needless to say I am very proud of my big little girl.

Un vrai pot de colle

It was Barry’s and my turn to start school this week. We arrived at the university at 9:00 a.m. to write our placement tests, and were met with some disorganization.

The students had to unstack desks and move chairs before any of us could sit down. After the room was arranged, we waited 10 minutes while the tests were quickly run off. Despite the very loud construction directly out the classroom window, and the questions typed in extremely small font, we both finished writing in just over an hour. The test included multiple choice and fill in the blank questions and 2 short essay questions: one about our arrival in France and first impressions, the other on the effect of television on children.

The next morning we went to check our placements: Barry had been placed in group 3, and I in the highest group, group 4. Some of you may, very legitimately, be surprised by my placement, as I was. Or perhaps panic would better describe how I was feeling. How could I have been placed in the HIGHEST group?! I knew, for instance, that an American women taking her masters in French was in this group. Barry laughs, but I swear it’s because I threw in this one subjonctif phrase while writing one of my essays that I had just heard Lily’s teacher use while speaking to us that morning (“il faudrait qu’ils sachent”). Nevermind my understanding of the subjonctif does not extend beyond this one phrase as anything that I may have known is long since forgotten. The only thing that stopped me from going and confessing to them that I had been messing around with French that was out of my league, and that really they should reconsider my placement, was that Group 4 had no classes on Wednesdays. This solved a huge concern for us, as the girls also are school free on Wednesdays (this is very common in France).

Alors, Groupe 4. Welcome your weakest link.

Remember all that wise advice I was feeding to Grace about trying her best even if it is difficult /it would get easier, etc.?? Well, it’s been my turn to take my own advice for a test drive. On that very day I had one class that discussed for 2 hours Sarkozy’s policy concerning the expulsion of the Gypsies and his plan to raise the retirement age. I guess the good news is that I understood some of it; it was just the other 50% percent that remained incomprehensible that had me slightly concerned. Yesterday for another class, we had to listen to 5 minutes of a news report and answer true or false and short answer questions based on it. This was a humbling experience to say the least; if I was grading it back home my result would be way down in the “not yet meeting” category, (and I must confess even including some lucky guesses). But, Grace appreciated hearing about Mom’s struggles and how I am trying to be as brave as she has been.

Grace really continues to impress us with how well she is working at adapting. In addition to the higher level of French (and math, we are finding out), all the children in her class write in handwriting (at the beginning of Grade 2!). She had been working on her cursive writing some this summer, but it’s still very slow and new for her. She says she is sometimes alone at break times, and she is putting on a brave face about it, but I think she feels lonely sometimes.

During all my classes this week, my thoughts often drifted to the girls and how each was doing. My classmates have had to hear me describe, for each new class we started, the scene of Lily crying and clinging to me everytime I drop her off. One professor said that the french phrase “un vrai pot de colle” (a real jar of glue), would describe such a situation.

Luckily, with Barry and I having different schedules, Lily doesn’t have to stay at school for lunch (“le cantine” wasn’t such a hit with this daughter...for starters, they made her wear a bib!!), and although the morning drop off remains “un vrai pot de colle”, she hasn’t cried returning after lunch and returns home quite animated and singing .....yay Lily!

Barry has Tuesdays free which worked well this week as the schools were closed due to the large strike against Sarkozy’s plan to raise the age of retirement from 60 to 62 (Barry and the girls saw hundreds marching just outside of the university). Also, it allows him to accompany Lily on her very first field trip next Tuesday; 25 four and five year olds are walking 20 minutes through downtown Avignon to the train station, taking a 25 minute train ride to Arles, and then walking 10 minutes to view a photography display (!) - all paid for by the school. Barry is as excited, if not more so, than Lily! Afterwards, her class will be participating in a photography project. I am very interested to see what this entails.

La Rentree

It’s one thing to move overseas as an adult and have a rough day when nothing about your new home is feeling as a home should, and you find yourself thinking about how comfortable everything was back in that place you volunteered to leave behind. At least you realize that ups and downs are expected, and that the whole experience is so valuable you need to just plow through.

It’s entirely another when you move overseas and it’s your child that is feeling uncomfortable and afraid and your assurances that it will get easier etc. mean nothing to them because they are living 100% in the present.

This is our reality at the moment.

Upon our return from Paris, we had rushed over to the girls’ schools (Lily is in the local “La Maternelle” school for 3 to 6 year olds, Grace in the adjoining school for 7 - 10 year olds) the afternoon before school started. We absolutely lucked out meeting both of the girls’ teachers and having a look around their classrooms. Both girls seemed very relieved and positive about their schools and I was elated: the teachers were very kind and generous with their time and we all would know our way around the next day....a sure recipe for smooth sailing.....

However, by the next morning all of our pre-school jitters were back. The girls were so brave walking to the school and waiting for the bell to ring, but as you can see by the picture, they were both very nervous. (If I don’t look nervous myself, it’s due to my great acting in front of the girls.) When first entering the class, Lily tried to concentrate on a puzzle and not cry, but quickly resorted to crying and clinging, while I tried not to cry and to reassure. There was some very sweet children curious about the little girl and Mommy talking English, but Lily was too distraught to interact. Quickly, Lily’s teacher and I decided that Lily would not stay for lunch that day. When we picked her up for the 2 hour lunch break, she seemed subdued and made it clear that she did not want to return that afternoon. Feeling a high amount of motherly guilt and worry, I prematurely asked her if she liked school a little, medium or big bit. The response “None. I hate school.” At that point, I knew it had to be Barry dropping her off for the afternoon.

Although there were some tears to start off the next morning, by the time we picked her up at 11:30, to my huge relief, she was much more the Lily we know, and when I asked the same question as I did yesterday, school got a “medium like”; ahhhhh, the sigh of a partly relieved Mom! Lily’s teacher has been doing her best to translate things into English for her, so appreciated. It’s amazing to us that already she has asked us the meaning of “maitresse”, “avec toi”, “vas-y” and “Anglais”.

After the week-end, this morning was difficult for her again and today she tries staying for lunch. Our fingers are crossed.

Grace had a mildy positive report after her first day. (“Mommy, I only wimpered for a minute”). She really likes her teacher, and sits beside a girl who speaks English and is happy to be around other children. She is thrilled with the lunch program (if you know Grace, this isn’t a surprise). Grace had one hour to savour the following on her first day of school: Poireaux vinagrette/ Poulet roti certifie aigre douce et rix bio cantonais/ Carre de l’est a la coupe/ Peche. Not a hot dog for miles. A few hurdles exist for her as well; she doesn’t like all the french nor the difficulty of the work. We just keep stressing that her job is to do her best and learn some more french, not keep up with her classmates. A sentiment that her teacher repeated which I think helped take some of the stress off of her.

We really do expect school to become more and more enjoyable and positive for the girls as their french improves. Today, the getting there is not feeling easy, and I wish I could speed it up for both of them.

All the best to our wonderful teaching friends back home as they return to the classroom tomorrow, and to all the little ones we know also heading back. Hope it is happy and tear-free for all!

Paris

I am currently sitting in the all-too-toasty "Cybermedia Cafe" in Avignon to post a few more photos of our time in Paris, as internet and telephone are still days away at our apartment (Wednesday at the earliest). It will be a treat to be able to more regularly stay in touch with you all when we are connected at home.

Our days in Paris passed quickly, starting with a trip to a nearby market where we enjoyed observing the market culture (Lily learned to say "touche pas!"). Barry did an excellent job of following proper etiquette and buying the ingredients to make a birthday dinner for my Mom that evening. After lunch, we spent a leisurely Sunday afternoon at the Luxmbourg Gardens with many other Parisien families enjoying the vintage carousel, le theatre des marionnettes (the girls weren't so sure about the puppet show, but Barry didn't give them an option, telling them it was a cultural experience that they couldn't veto!), a pay-by-the-five-minutes swing set, and ponies to ride. We had a great end to the day celebrating my Mom's birthday eating, we all agreed, the tastiest pork chops ever that had been purchased at the morning market, and cutting up a box full of different pastries to share.

On Monday I had a very special day with my parents visiting the Louvre (unbelievably huge, crowded and interesting, even though our tour guide had a good dose of that Paris "the paying customer is never right" attitude we had read about!), and later Notre Dame Cathedral (breathtaking), while Barry took the girls to another garden with rides; a big hit.

On our last day we set out early to ride up the Eiffel Tower; a must on Grace's list. Although not great with heights, (I have to pump my courage up for a child sized ferris wheel), I thought I would be fine having made it up the CN tower (huddled against the back wall of the elevator still counts, right?) which is considerably higher. But, the elevator going to the second level of the Paris Tower was much scarier as you feel you are rising almost unsupported with only open metal all around you. (I don't know how they found anyone willing to build it). Of course, I felt better when there was a solid floor to step out on at the top and didn't feel the need to go right back down, as I was vowing to do on the way up. Views spectacular. Paris spectacular.

Our last stop was the Champs Elysees (the girls kept humming this 1969 French folk song about this street we had heard on the boat cruise, so we thought we should check it out) and lunch in full view of the Arc de Triomphe.

Wednesday we returned by train to Avignon to begin our lives as students, and my parents began the long journey back to Vancouver Island. We thank them for everything, and sure will miss them!